Tin Soldier
by Theta
Summary: NEW! CHAPTER 15!(Spoilers for OotP) The sixth year begins, and Harry is forced to come to terms with several new realities. Fred and George open a new shop, and Dumbledore holds a secret of one individual. RR
1. Tin Man

One Tin Soldier  
  
Disclaimer: I own zip. All that, and a bag of chips!  
  
Summery: After the events of OotP (That's a warning, folks!) the path laid for Harry is one he must walk alone. But what he does not realize is the falsity of the statement. Some shippy goodness may be in store. The rating, too, may go up.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Beneath the begonias of number four, Harry Potter stared at the stars. Another sleepless night had lured the adolescent from the comfort of his room to the midnight chill of the well-groomed lawn. He listened silently to the drone of the television, which Dudley had fallen asleep in front of, yet again, after his favorite shows. After the drivel of Dudley's liking, the station opted to draw a more sophisticated audience with the broadcast of Broadway productions. As Harry's mind wandered with the melodies of Miss Saigon trailing in the background, a cloud crossed the moon before him. Quietly, the boy sighed. Above him, the black dog of the cloud only stared down upon him, and faded into the darkness. He closed his eyes as a look of pain flickered across his pale features.   
  
He had not slept much lately. His godfather still ran in his dreams, always evading his call behind the veil of darkness, the veil of hopelessness. Every night, if he wasn't gazing through the eyes of the snake, he was observing the dance of his mother and father before him, his godfather running away from him in the background.  
  
A small sound escaped his lips. No matter how much he argued that nothing could be done, the unfairness still strangled his feeble hold to his only consolation-- his friends. They couldn't understand, nobody did. This was just too much. He had been the cause of his godfather's death, he knew it. But what hurt the most was knowing how infinitely alone he was. In this fight, in this end.   
  
As he opened his eyes again, the same overwhelming sense of emptiness filled him with a pain worse than anything he had felt before. Standing so alone at the edge of the abyss, he plummeted into the stars above him in a fountain of glittering silence. He felt himself slip further, gravity releasing him, and quietly, like a hand into a glove, the cold night air seemed to take him. For a moment, he swore he brushed near the dog-cloud, and the laughing, lolling creature he loved ran beside him again amongst the stars. He stretched his arms to him...  
  
All the met Harry was the slick begonia leaves. His head slipped back as cruel consciousness called him. Staring into the same starry void, tears began to slip tentatively down his cheeks as Kim sang softly to her child in the still night air.  
  
~Did I kill him?...~  
  
///You who I cradled in my arms, you...   
  
Asking as little as you can,   
  
Little snip of a little man   
  
I know I'd give my life for you..///  
  
Lupin had told him his mother loved Madam Butterfly... Her favorite opera... Wasn't Miss Saigon derived from that opera?   
  
Was he hearing his mother singing to him?   
  
His eyes slipped closed as the voice fell over him, the tears coming in sudden succession.  
  
///You didn't ask me to be born, you,   
  
Why should you learn of war or pain?   
  
To make sure you're not hurt again,   
  
I swear I'd give my life for you.   
  
I've tasted love beyond all fear   
  
And you should know it's love that brought you here...///  
  
His hands locked into fists as he tried to stifle the sobs. He could hear his mother in his mind. The same vision came forth, again and again.  
  
~ "No! Not Harry! Please, not Harry..."~  
  
  
  
///And in one perfect night   
  
When the stars burned like new,   
  
I knew what I must do!////   
  
~Why did she do that for me?~  
  
///I'll give you a million things I'll never own,   
  
I'll give you a world to conquer when you're grown..///   
  
His eyes flew open. ~*Scoffs* A world to conquer? But I'm alone...~  
  
His breaths came ragged and heavy as his tortured eyes stared into the sky.  
  
~ What have you given me, mother?~  
  
///You will be who you want to be, you,   
  
Can choose whatever heaven grants...///   
  
The tears dripped onto his clothing, the cold unintelligible from the evening air.  
  
~ A world without my family? A path I must walk alone?~  
  
///As long as you can have your chance,   
  
I swear I'll give my life for you....///  
  
He stood up and ran from there, the green light burning in his mind, to the back of the house and up the rope ladder from his window. He knelt on the bed, sobbing brokenly. The light on the clock stared back at him. He was sixteen, and he was alone.  
  
As sudden as the pain came, it still slipped in, as did the darkness, through the cracks of his tears.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
He wanted to vomit. The stench was terrible, the burning buildings all around him flashing with fire. Muggles fell before him as the families were slain, one by one, as Voldemort gave his cruel order to his waiting guard. Nausea fell over him wave bye wave as the men and woman collapsed before him, the children never even passing before his eyes, the witless accusations ringing in his ears. He swore that if he could run, he would turn and never look back.   
  
The deaths were too gruesome to describe. Huge blades were waved before him. Awful curses were used that caused the victim's bodies to explode organ by organ. Women with eyes of blood and men robbed of body parts collapsed before him, each etching a horrible reminder of the bastard that watched in satisfaction's heartlessness. The pain grew in intensity until he was blind with it, beyond his body he swore he must have vomited.  
  
They were raped, slain in masses....  
  
So publicly... so openly.. It was a demonstration of the Dark Lord's power. An insult, a challenge, to the ministry, to the world. These people, these rich Muggles, had done nothing. Ripped from their beds, they were tortured for crimes that did not belong to their name. He watched in helplessness as his sight swelled in red. His mind trembled on the edge of some frighteningly intense nothingness.  
  
As everything shattered, he stared in paralyzed fear. The final victim, a man of about 50, stared transfixed in his bleeding mind, gazed up at him with deadened features. The green light around him illuminated the glossy honey brown eyes and flawless, although large, front teeth.   
  
Everything fell away. He screamed.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A parchment brushed his cheek as dawn strained to pass through the wilted curtains. His eyes opened. His head hurt terribly, and he felt near to blind. Shadows passed above him back and forth as he moaned. Suddenly, the last face floated before him, and all at once he threw himself forward and vomited on his bed.   
  
Nameless hands eased him to the side, and as his blurred vision swirled before him Remus Lupin gazed down on him, eyes fixed and worried as he mopped his mouth and chest. Harry looked dazedly down at his soiled robes.   
  
~What the hell am I doing here..?~  
  
Harry stared around the room with a pang of sorrow. He was at Grimwauld... the home of the Order, and of his late godfather. His breath caught in his chest as his senses slowly gathered themselves.  
  
::The green light around him illuminated the glossy honey brown eyes and flawless, although large, front teeth.::  
  
His skull felt as if it were cracking as he grabbed it in his hands, curling forward, eyes wide in horror.  
  
~Hermione!~  
  
" Hermione!!"  
  
His voice sounded alien as it burst from his ragged and retch-burned throat. He stared with frantic eyes around the room, and made to stand from his bed. Lupin held him back, suddenly. Harry looked up into his eyes, heart sinking to the pit of his stomach. There was a terrible familialarity as he restrained him.He continued yelling frantically, struggling forward.  
  
"Hermione..! Hermione!..."  
  
~ "No Harry... He's.. d--"~  
  
Lupin stared down at him. "Not now, Harry... You cannot see her now..."  
  
Harry still struggled.  
  
"Hermione... Hermione!!" Something inside of him rejected the idea of not being able to see her. This was far too like the time Lupin had restrained him from chasing Sirius.. because then his godfather had been dead. His mind was convinced that those eyes had belonged to her.   
  
Without thinking, he kicked Remus and ran dizzily through the house, yelling. He stumbled from room to room, heart pounding.  
  
~ she can't be dead she can't be dead she can't be dead.....~  
  
He fell through the final door, and froze, gasping, at the interior.  
  
Hermione sat curled on the bed, unconscious, eyes red, several welts across her skin and an odd sort of ashen tone on her cheeks. He wanted to scream. He began to rush forward, swearing that if she had died, another person, because of him, he would never, ever, be able to live life in the light of day. It would have been his fault, utterly and completely. His fingers reached out and came within inches of shaking his friend, grabbing her shoulders and forcing the form into some kind of proof of life.   
  
~ Not someone else... oh god, I need her and Ron!.. if--~  
  
His thoughts were disrupted, though, as he fell back through the doorway, a hand gripping his collar with choking tightness.  
  
Harry, rather shocked, stared up into the face of Alaster Moody.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
A/N: TBC Please review!!! You get cookies, and I get feedback!  
  
~~~~~ 


	2. The Bloody Morning After

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter 2:   
  
Disclaimer: I own zip. All that, and a bag of chips!  
  
Summery: After the events of OotP (That's a warning, folks!) the path laid for Harry is one he must walk alone. But what he does not realize is the falsity of the statement. Some shippy goodness may be in store. The rating, too, may go up.  
  
SillyGillie: Thank you! I'll keep it up. I don't know if this is a H/Hr story. Right now Harry is just upset due to what he saw and an underlying sense of guilt for the deaths of those close to him, so his concern can be taken either way.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Harry looked blankly at Moodey from his place on his bed. Nothing the man was saying seemed to make any sense, with the exception of two words.  
  
"She's alright--"  
  
Relief seemed to wash over him for a few moments, and gradually, the rest of the details managed to work themselves into his senses as the effects of his encounter wore away.  
  
"Potter?" Moodey asked sharply, "Are you listening to me?"  
  
He snapped up again, looking into the one rolling eyeball. He licked his lips slowly, and nodded.   
  
~Let's go through this again...~  
  
"You were brought here because your last encounter with Voldemort nearly killed you, do you understand? You slipped out of reality, scared us all witless. Merlin's beard, we thought you'd gone mad, or daft! For the first day or so..."  
  
Lupin's eyes locked with his suddenly. " If you do not focus over these next weeks upon your Occlumency, Harry..." For the first time Harry noticed how deep the lines of his young face had become. For some reason, it had never occurred to him, and yet now he began to realize how difficult losing Sirius must have been for him. He found himself focusing more intently, despite the quiet pounding that still continued in his skull.  
  
"--We may have to withhold you from school."  
  
Harry gawked for a moment at Moodey's interruption. It was still a little much to take in, his senses were too muddled to ask many questions. Before he could even word his protest, though, Harry realized that there must be quite a bit of merit in what they had said. If it had been serious enough for a fairish portion of the Order to burst into his home, take him away, and keep him under scrutiny- since he had apparently been near death for a bloody dream- then of course he wouldn't be allowed back in school. He would miss more days than Lupin.  
  
Quite suddenly, his spinning mind asked perhaps the most obvious question. He felt a bit ridiculous, not asking sooner, really.  
  
He stared at them. "What happened to begin with?"  
  
"You don't... err.... remember?" Lupin quirked a brow at him.  
  
Harry felt a bit foolish, but aside from the face of that man who looked like Hermione, he really remembered very little.  
  
Lupin took a deep breath, however Moodey interrupted gruffly. "Voldemort attacked a Muggle village. Openly. From what we can gather, you observed as the adults were killed. When we were alerted, by, erm... our informant...."  
  
Harry noticed the flicker of their eyes between each other.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Harry, we can't exactly tell you that much... seeing as he could be listening in from his end, if you catch me.."  
  
His face burned, but he tucked in and waited for more. He was outraged and miserable, but this would just mean he would have to concentrate on his Occlumency twofold.  
  
"Er, well, either way, Harry, it was a rather rich area... perhaps the reason for this was Voldemort's disdain of Muggles who actually hold wealth and power." Lupin lowered his eyes "Either way, Harry, something happened... of which you must be aware.."  
  
His eyes quirked and, as his mind was clearing, he leapt upon it at once. "I thought you said she was alright?"  
  
Lupin held up a hand, holding his gaze. "In a word, yes. In the same right, though, she is terribly ill." he looked away "You see her family was killed in that raid."  
  
Something in the room seemed to falter. The silence that followed the statement carried a rather odd, final tone. Moodey continued in a gruff sort of tone as Lupin looked a bit awkward for the explanation.  
  
"When our informant gave us the news that the assault was in her village, there was little we could do but tell her. We allowed her to come with us, only because it was her right to.." Lupin looked venomous at this "..and so many of us joined the assault, while Albus had the foresight to send several of the Order to check on you.  
  
"When we arrived," something unbelievably akin to guilt flickered for a moment on his features, "it was too late. Her mother and father were already before Voldemort. Before any of us could stop her, Granger was on top of the Death Eaters. As soon as she managed to gather her emotions, she stepped back a bit, and fought quite well. We managed to drive out the bastards, but many of us were injured in the process, and several died. Sons of bitches use the killing curse without flinching...   
  
"Granger was caught off guard and hexed before she could get to her parents, but as near as we can tell, she saw their deaths, which were unpleasant ones. We withdrew after their retreat, and most of us came back here. For the past three days, we've been recovering, and waiting for his next move."  
  
Harry was quiet for a few minuets after this. He weighed the shock of everything with his own sense of guilt. He couldn't help but wonder if Voldemort had chosen that area, as his friend lived there. The idea was ridiculous, but in the same right equally haunting. The image of Hermione on the bed, eyes closed tight, made his stomach clench.  
  
"When can I talk to her?"  
  
Again, the adults looked for a moment at each other.  
  
Moodey shook his head. "Her choice. She hasn't said anything since we returned."  
  
Harry flinched at this. He groped for something to say.  
  
"How about Ron? Can I see him?"  
  
Lupin nodded, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. At least there was someone he could talk to about this without feeling as though he was being denied information. He sat back in his fresh robes, waiting quietly as Moodey and Lupin left the room. Fidgeting, he looked fixedly at the door.  
  
Soon enough, a fiery red head peered around the corner, as if checking for some sort of infestation. When Ron spotted Harry, he stepped in.   
  
Harry paused for a moment. It was not at how Ron had grown even more in the month he had been missed, but his expression. He had only seen him so pale and strained when his leg had been broken by the Whomping Willow. He paused for a moment before breaking into an uneasy sort of smile.  
  
"Hey Ron.."  
  
"Harry..."  
  
Ron sat on the chair beside him looking awkward. He fidgeted silently and stared at Harry as if expecting something rather odd to happen. Harry was beginning to get sick of being stared at, and was very annoyed that his best friend was doing it now.  
  
"Why are you looking at me like I'm going to bite you?"  
  
"Er...well.." Ron looked a bit taken aback "Mum told me that I ought to be careful what I say around you... Please, Harry, you have to understand, I wouldn't choose to be like this, it's just that we can't let Vol... demort.. find out anything.. I mean, if he were listening...-"  
  
"Bloody hell, I'm inviting him here or anything, dammit!"  
  
Ron stared for a moment at his outburst. Harry's head had begun to spin slightly with his anger. He took a breath.  
  
"I swear, Ron, I'm sure he isn't listening in... And don't look at me like that, I'm not going to pass out or anything." Ron threw him a look of uncertainty " I'm fine, he was just... it was too... It was awful.... oh, damn it Ron, stop gaping at me like that!"  
  
Ron shut his mouth a bit, and scrutinized him silently. He finally spoke, although strangely quietly. "You scared us all to hell, Harry, but for you to go like that, it must have been bad."  
  
Harry suddenly felt a bit better. At least he didn't see him as helpless. But something else bothered him. Many things, in fact.   
  
"Ron, have you seen Hermione?"  
  
The redhead paused, then cast his eyes down. "She's pretty bad, Harry." The two looked for a bit at each other, not really wanting to consider the cause for the sudden turn of events in the past week.   
  
"She'll be fine though... you think?"  
  
"What can we do anyways?" Ron shrugged "All I can think of is keeping an eye on her. Mum already ordered us to, anyways. She's really worried about both of you. We're going to the Burrow as soon as you can be moved either way, so make sure all of your stuff is with you, and not back with your... um... relatives..."  
  
Obviously Ron remembered Harry warning him that his Aunt and Uncle were the only people who kept him from being flame-broiled by Voldemort in the Summers. Or any other time for that matter.   
  
~Not that that will be much help when I go after the 'dark lord'~ He thought wryly.  
  
"So are we staying at your place the rest of the Summer?"   
  
"Yeah, mom thinks it would be better for us to be together right now... She wants us all to be in one place that's a little safer. Bill and Charlie are here too. Moodey is going to come with us to train you, so it'll be a bit crowded, but I think we'll manage... Especially with Percy gone and everything."  
  
Harry nodded in assent. Nothing needed to be said about Percy, as far as he was concerned. The two began to slip back into their rhythm as they talked about their summers, a bit awkwardly at first. Soon enough, things had fallen back to a bit of a more relaxed atmosphere as Ron pulled out his wizard chess board, and they played a few somewhat lively games. Soon enough, Ron was glowing with triumph, an evil grin on his face.  
  
"Well Harry, I must say you still play like rubbish."   
  
Harry glared daggers at Ron, an opened his mouth as if to reply with a sharp retort, when his voice was replaced by a quiet, feminine sound. He froze.  
  
" Harry, I know you lost, but you don't have to be a girl about it.."  
  
"..Ron?... Harry?"  
  
Ron turned around, and if it hadn't been such a serious situation, Harry would have laughed at his expression.   
  
Hermione stood in the doorway, eyes full of tears. Ron began to stand, as if to speak, when suddenly she ran at them and threw herself around both of them, crying silently.  
  
Harry stared at Ron over her head. He looked back, and wordlessly, they put their arms around her.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N: please keep up the news! I thank anyone who is reading this, but please, please review.. I really do like and appreciate the feedback. Thanks again SillyGillie! 


	3. Tell Me Morning Glory, What is Real?

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Three: Tell Me Morning Glory, What is Real?  
  
Disclaimer: I own the poem... nothing much else. All that, and a bag of chips!  
  
~~~~~  
  
I guess I want to cry  
  
She said as she danced in the autumn bloom,  
  
The Azure sky touching her lips  
  
Tainting them with blue.  
  
And what sort of fool could meet your eye?  
  
Touch the sky,  
  
With a cold and open heart.  
  
So her eyes carried the blue of the autumn sunset,  
  
The last gaze of the dying leaf touching her heart,  
  
Forever naming the wordless fear,  
  
Shadowless, echoless sorrow  
  
Coloring her soul.  
  
In the half-forgotten light of her spirit,  
  
There, beneath the leaves,  
  
Scattered aside, dead brown clothed in red,  
  
Sunset eyes dead,  
  
With a steely gaze only broken by ripples in time.  
  
And she stands aside with laughing, crying eyes,  
  
Forgotten, in wild surmise,  
  
Knowing transparency,  
  
Same as the elusive leaf.  
  
The child of autumn trying to grow near,  
  
To hold on to what has flown.  
  
As the blackbirds fly south,  
  
Crimson lines on crying mouth,  
  
She has forgotten what she remembers,  
  
And in the sunset eyes, lets go.  
  
("Watching" March 2003)  
  
~~~~~  
  
Her hands worked through the folds of Harry's clothing as she cried her heart. He looked at Hermione in silent shock, unable to express through words what he felt. Ron only looked at him, mouth half parted. Harry knew he felt it too, and was sure that the redhead choked as he closed his eyes.   
  
"Hermione... we're here, it's... it's..."  
  
A distant chime interrupted them. Evidently, there was a meal prepared as set on the table. Slowly, Hermione pulled back, face flushed. She stared for a moment at the ground, and all at once, Harry and Ron released her. Gradually, as the chime rang once more, her eyes rose from the floor to meet theirs. She took a deep breath, biting back tears.  
  
"Thanks.." She whispered.  
  
Ron nodded, but Harry immediately spoke, his voice shaking with a sort of alien conviction.  
  
"Hermione, you know you would do the same for either of us. You should know right now that you can come to us for anything, no thanks needed, I mean--"  
  
"Yeah, Herm! We're not going to leave you just because it hurts..."  
  
"--We'd take you in no matter what--"  
  
"Mum wants you to stay with us whenever you need, until you can take care of yourself. You're a Weasley now..."  
  
Harry noticed his cheeks burned slightly as he spoke.   
  
"--and you have always been one of us."  
  
Hermione's mouth stood slightly open as they spoke. Finally, she managed a small smile.  
  
"Harry... Ron... It means allot, all that you guys are doing..."   
  
Her friends only smiled at her. The chime rang a third time, and at once, Molly Weasley walked into the room, looking about. Her eyes lightened when she saw the three children standing together, and quite suddenly the little frown of impatience turned into a mother's smile of relief.  
  
"Aren't any of you hungry? I would think that at your age, going this long without a meal would make you terribly hungry." She waved her hand casually. " But if you aren't, then I am sure I can tell Professor Dumbledore that he will just have to survive with disappointment. Pity, he traveled all of this way to see each of you, too." Molly turned with a sigh.  
  
The three of them were out the door before Mrs. Weasley could reach it. Harry, the slowest of the three in his descent, paused in the stairwell. Hermione waited a few steps below, brown eyes turned to his. It was her turn to be worried.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Ron leapt hard on the floorboards beneath and Harry listened as the portraits awoke raucously. He suddenly felt rather ill.   
  
He felt a hand on his arm a moment later, and looked down to see Hermione, her face rather near to his. There was the same frustrating, unstoppable scrutiny in her eyes, her lips pursed in a small pout of concentration. All of this was rather clear to him, as she stood on the step beneath him.  
  
"Harry, why don't you want to see Dumbledore?"  
  
He stared at her.  
  
"..S'nothing..."  
  
She looked up at him, more worried than he had seen her in close to a month. Suddenly, a quiet fear appeared him her eyes.   
  
A peculiar thing happened then.  
  
~~Harry pushed her backwards down the long flight, although his hands never touched her. Her eyes widened as he saw her fall backwards, the flicker of betrayal, sorrow, and another, yet intangible emotion somewhere in the background.~~   
  
~~His hand flew forward to reach her, but she wasn't there. She had flown too far into the darkness of the stairwell. As he flew forward to the base, something held him from the hard floor below. At the bottom, in a fountain of blood, Hermione stared up at him with those same blank, brown eyes. His skull creaked in pain, and he went limp.~~  
  
"NO!!"  
  
Hermione caught her footing two stairs below where he had pushed her, and to her surprise, his limp form caught her violently, and the two of them flew backwards as she grappled for any catch.  
  
An arm wrapped itself around her, the other hand grasping the handrail. Gasping for breath, she glanced thankfully at Lupin. In her arms, Harry stirred.  
  
Her strength failed her and she laid him down.   
  
"Professor."  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Can I please eat now?"He muttered irritably.  
  
"In a moment, Harry. Be patient now."  
  
"May we leave tomorrow, Headmaster?" Molly Weasley looked about uncomfortably.  
  
"Of course, Molly, but why?"  
  
"This place has a bad sort of feel about it. It isn't helping the young ones at all..."  
  
Harry sat up, outraged. "What do you mean, 'bad feel'! My Godfather lived here!"  
  
Dumbledore pulled him back into a relaxed position, moving the glowing tip of his wand back and forth before his eyes. Finally, with an unhappy sound, the Headmaster sat back.  
  
"I'm afraid, Harry, that Voldemort has learned how to project himself, at least in the physical sense, through your body. Molly is right, in a way. We cannot have you about if he can hear, see, or sense the location of this place. It is endangering the safety of the Order, and of your friends."  
  
Harry looked nervously at Hermione, who had sat fixedly in the corner since he had awoke, hands folded on her lap. He shook his head.  
  
"You mean to say that he tried to force me to kill Hermione?"  
  
"I am afraid so. So until you master your Occlumency, I must say it would be rather dangerous for your friends to be about you without supervision." He clucked. "I am sorry Harry, this is a terrible thing you must go through. We will not, however, let you suffer alone."  
  
Harry felt a quiet burning in the pit of his stomach. Of course, as if he weren't alone enough already. His hatred for Voldemort was rising to an almost uncontrollable pitch. He felt sick, even as Mrs. Weasley placed a plate on his lap, eyes full of concern. He felt like throwing food in his Headmaster's face.   
  
He began to eat silently.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N Thanks to everyone who has read, and apologies to those who tried to review before. I wasn't being a snoot about the anon. reviewers, my preferences were automatically set, and I didn't check them until someone brought it to my attention. Thanks much, Psy-Girl! 


	4. Soil and the Seeker

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Three: Soil and the Seeker  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!   
  
A/N: Thanks to all reviewers!   
  
Firebreath: * blush* thank you for all of the input! Wonkey is my style!  
  
Mella deRanged: Thank you for the advice, always appreciated, and in this chapter, duly noted.  
  
Evil Lady: * sweats over keyboard * trying! Have mercy! I will try to make things a bit clearer later, and will definitely try to go back and HTML this sucker so the italics actually appear.  
  
Kersten: Glad to hear from you, as always. * ultra super blush * and, um, thanks! ^-^  
  
Punky Toofster: me, AgRe. Seriously, though, I appreciate someone commenting on grammar, I did not know if I was doing that well.  
  
Annabelle Lauren: Thank you, madam!   
  
PadfootOldButtyOldPal: Overdone romance is indeed rancid... and flirting at this point would be rather unfair.  
  
Sweetie: Thank you, will do!  
  
Psy-Girl: Thank you for the wonderful advice, it helped me to not tick people off, which I like to avoid. And thanks for your kind words!  
  
SillyGillie: Thank you for my first review! You've bolstered my confidence by actually responding!  
  
Thank you to everyone!   
  
~~~~~  
  
Dumbledore stirred suddenly from his sleep. There was a heavy pounding on his door. He woke up, nodding slightly at the door, which leapt aside obediently. Harry stood on the other side, looking a bit confused, yet unmistakably angry. He walked in with stride of someone who was afraid of nothing because he had everything to lose. His green eyes sparkled in the dim light as he glared at his Headmaster.  
  
He was growing up too quickly, and it hurt the old man's heart to see it.  
  
"What was the idea with making such a big deal about Voldemort getting inside my head?"   
  
Harry stood there with his hands clenched at his sides, not knowing he had assumed the same position his mother had when angry, not knowing he was approaching his father's height, not knowing his temper was that of Sirius, or that he was perhaps the boldest student Dumbledore had ever had the pleasure of educating. Blue eyes glinted behind half-moon spectacles in the moonshadow.  
  
"Harry..." The boy snapped his head to meet his gaze. "Harry, why do you not trust me?"  
  
Harry seemed taken aback. "Well, where shall I start! I mean, you hid a great lot of information from me, and seemed to think I would fair just as fine without it, yet now you seem to be being completely sincere! I know you better than that, Professor, and I want the reason you keep making a bloody big lot of deal about Voldemort invading my mind! I also want to know how you could even begin to see that I am not alone! I have been alone since I was a baby, and I'm still alone. And now, NOW I seem to be out to kill my friends and what is left of my family. So I want to ask you, Professor Dumbledore, why things seem to be growing gradually worse, yet you still manage to only tell me what I know, despite the fact that I trust you, and that I always have!" Harry was cut of by a raised hand.  
  
"If you trust me, Harry, then why are you yelling? You'll wake the whole house."  
  
Harry caught himself, and panted for a few moments before going on. "Tell me. Everything."  
  
Dumbledore gazed at the floor sadly. " I cannot."  
  
"Why not, sir?" Harry's tone became aggressive again, and Dumbledore's eyes met his imidiatly.  
  
"To protect you."  
  
"Oh, fat load of good that has done!" Harry kicked the mattress silently, glaring at the floor. "I've lost my parents, my godfather, and now it seems like Voldemort wants to kill one of my friends! I put everyone I care about in danger, and the people who I don't care about are in even worse trouble, I mean look at myself!"  
  
The elderly wizard sighed deeply at this.   
  
"Perhaps that is why you are in danger, you have ceased to care."  
  
" But I care about them, and they keep dying! Now it seems like Hermione is in danger..."  
  
"She was born to a non-wizarding family, Harry, you know this is not entirely your fault." Harry's eyes shot up.  
  
"Entirely? Professor, I can tell when you are hiding something, and you are now. What are you not telling me?"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "My boy, you have placed your finger upon it yourself, I cannot tell you what I am hiding, but otherwise I am completely sincere with you when at all possible. And I am afraid in regards to Miss Granger, there is nothing I can tell."  
  
"Then at least tell me why you are making such a mess of this trouble I have with Voldemort! Surely he isn't listening in yet! I would know!" Harry bent forward, glaring.  
  
Dumbledore looked grave. "Did he know at first when you were?"  
  
Harry swallowed his words and looked at his Headmaster. He looked around and stared out the windows trying to think clearly. It wasn't this serious... and beyond this, what could he do?  
  
"Professor... Dumbledore..?"  
  
"Yes, Harry?"  
  
"Do you think that I killed Sirius?"  
  
Dumbledore appraised Harry. Somehow, he began to realize that the truth was worthwhile.  
  
"In a way, each of us were responsible. Voldemort set out to kill him as a reward to one of his servants. It was only as much your fault as any other's, and blaming yourself will do no good."  
  
Harry nodded after a few moments, and turned away.  
  
He trailed back to his room without a goodbye and locked his door quietly. Closing his eyes, he sought out sleep, thankful that this night was dreamless, and that when he awoke all was right in Grimwauld Place.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Molly Weasley smiled fondly down at the children as they filed out of a company car and moved Harry and Hermione's possessions into the rooms upstairs. Moodey carted his trunk easily, and levitated it up the stairs. Remus Lupin slid out of the car, having himself decided only that morning to aid in Harry's training.   
  
It seemed that moving took less time than one would have thought, and with Moodey and Lupin to see after the children outside, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley worked on dinner. Bill and Charley laughed heartily with their younger brothers and Ginny chased after a sparrow on one of the brooms, racing with Ron. Harry had taken his only newly relinquished Firebolt and was enjoying the sensation of flight in the solitude surrounding the Burrow. Laughing a bit on the memory of Mrs. Weasley's shockingly friendly curiosity regarding Harry's 'donation' to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, he flew free, knowing that any attempt Voldemort might make to project himself could be stifled by a quick yell to one of his previous Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers. He surveyed the landscape below, unconsciously sizing up Ron, the newest Griffindor keeper. He waved amusedly to Ginny as she smacked Ron upside the head with the sparrow she just caught, and laughed when one of the twins flipped themselves onto a new broom they had bought and sped through the shocked group.  
  
Harry looked down elsewhere, and spotted a solitary figure wandering over the brushy landscape. He ducked a bit closer, and looked down at the top of Hermione's head.   
  
She was walking among the thorns, gazing at different trees. She looked somewhat lost, although Harry guessed it was only her thoughts that were beyond rambling. She sat down in a circle of stones, and stared into the distance.   
  
A very strange thought occurred to him. She was suddenly far more similar to him, though he felt a bit odd about not noticing before. She, too, had lost her parents, somehow it hit him, high above the low lying clouds. For the first time, Harry felt the strange obligation to help her. He turned his broom in the air.  
  
After another twenty minuets of observation, he flew back to the Burrow, convinced that after a few days of Occlumeny, he would have to find her. By nature, or perhaps good fortune, the Seeker of Griffindor knew just where to go.  
  
Over dinner, Hermione kept her eyes on the food, but Harry kept his eyes fixed on his newly assumed ward.  
  
~~~~~ 


	5. Clouding

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Five: Clouding  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!  
  
Warning: I came up with my own version of Occlumency training, as I have no access to the fifth book at this moment, and really remember very little of the specifics. If anyone would like to give me the actual version I would be happy to oblige, but for now it really matters very little to the story. So don't get mad if I'm not faithful to Snapey-poo. Pleasant reading!!!  
  
~~~~~  
  
"We are going to start at the beginning"  
  
Harry nodded at Lupin, and sat on the sun-warmed grass. He gazed quietly up at the sky smiling at Ron, who was whooping gloriously as he sped about on the Firebolt Harry had lent him through the days he would be trained in Occlumency. It was hard to understand, but something about the silence and stillness about the Burrow was far more welcoming to his learning than the dank shadows of the Potions room.  
  
Sighing, he locked eyes once more with Lupin. Although Harry would have breathed the sweetness of the living things all day, the matter of his education was, for the first time in his life, his priority. He laughed quietly.  
  
~If only Hermione could hear me now... she'd drop dead from shock...~  
  
"Clear your mind of all thought, and seek out the light when you see it..."  
  
Harry closed his eyes and breathed heavily the scent of the trees and brush. His mind cleared slowly, and he found himself focusing calmly on a small point of light at the corner of his vision. Just at the moment that he thought he had trapped the pinpoint, though, it slipped out of the corner of his sight, and Harry had to strive beyond the edges. His eyes rolled painfully, and his head started to hurt.  
  
After close to an hour, Harry felt unbearably dizzy, and too many thoughts of frustration were bombarding him. He opened his eyes and glared stiffly at the ground. When he looked up, Lupin was laying on the ground, watching him with a blend of amusement and irritation. Moodey, on the other hand, had recently appeared, and seemed to be sputtering silently.  
  
"You... Damned foolish boy, you don't have to find the bloody light with you eyes!!!"  
  
Mrs. Weasley threw a piece of crocker-ware suddenly at his feet, and yelled out the window. "Mind your tongue, Alastor! There are children about, and I won't have them learn your foul manners!"  
  
Moodey twitched.  
  
"Really, Molly, the boy was trying to follow it with his bloody eye- BLAST! Molly, you'll do me damage!" Moodey looked ruffled, but there was a twinkle of amusement in his single eye.  
  
"Yes, I will if you don't mind yourself!"  
  
"But Molly-"  
  
"I mean it, Alastor!"  
  
"Rubbish, woman, we're training our champion here!"  
  
"Champion nothing, he's still a boy and he will need his manners!"  
  
"Molly..."  
  
Mrs. Weasley gave him one last fiery look and stormed from the window. Harry gawked at her. It seemed impossible that she had just dressed down a world-famous Auror. Yet incomprehensibly, moments later, he heard her indomitable humming floating from the window. It was disrupted by a rather loud snort behind him. Turning, Harry stared at Lupin, who was sitting on the turf.  
  
The usually pale and drawn man had a look of glee on his face that made him look years younger. Quite suddenly, everything seemed terribly funny and Harry began to laugh himself. It was odd, but once the pain of all that had occurred fell away, Remus Lupin looked so similar to his Godfather that Harry swore Sirius had returned. His laughter fell away and he sighed.   
  
It wasn't the same, no, but he began to believe he had someone.   
  
The same instinct Harry had felt days ago when he stared at Hermione curled in the chair kicked in suddenly. He withdrew, afraid of hurting someone else he loved, and the shield came up.  
  
It was then that Harry noticed Moodey staring at him. He sighed, returning to the business at hand, though a small smile still played on Lupin's lips and he himself still felt a bit liberated.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Harry, what made you think you had to chase that light with your eyes, it really is rather daft of you. Havn't you ever thought of simply chasing it with your mind?"  
  
Harry looked a little dumbstruck. "er... no...?"  
  
"Well then, that is the problem. That worm, Snape, did all these ridiculous things, and even if they came near to success, of course you couldn't succeed, he never taught you to search your mind properly to begin with!"  
  
Harry nodded, puzzled, "Meaning..."  
  
"Well," Moodey rolled his eye, "If you were to protect Hogwarts, but you could only look at one side, through your eyes, say, would you succeed? What if the guards were removed against apperation?"  
  
"Of course not, you'd have no idea what was going on behind you, and no way to tell if... someone was there..!" The pieces began to fall into place, and Harry's eyes lit up.  
  
"So I see you do have a brain in you after all!"  
  
Harry looked offended. "Well, I'd have no way to detect it, or to look around, so how do you propose to solve that?"  
  
"By teaching you to use your mind as a defense, as a weapon. If you train yourself to become more sensitive to what is trying to come in, you can stop it before it gets there. Snape just taught you how to stop it, not how to feel it coming."  
  
Harry nodded but stayed silent.  
  
"You see, I am paranoid as some call me.." Moodey scoffed at this, "because preemption is a wonderful weapon, given the right training. I am a little less obsessive about it than the papers have made me out to be, mind you." He winked. "but I intend to teach you a delicate form of training, being able to sense who is invading your mind.   
  
"That little light you saw, that Lupin told you to seek out and pin down, was the hole I pricked in your barriers. Now think of your mind as a sphere. Once I get in, it is almost impossible to get me out unless I choose to leave, due to pain I feel from what I learn or witness, i.e. a reflexive flight, or leaving after my business if done, that is, the murder Voldemort would like you to commit on any number of your friends."  
  
Harry winced, but pressed on. "So you are saying I have to stop you... er.. Voldemort, before you get in?"  
  
"It is really the only way to stop his intrusion successfully."  
  
"Well then, teach me how to track the light."  
  
"Alright, think of it as if you are in a dream, is if you are chasing the light not through your vision, but you can move your body about and follow it with your 'eyes' as needed." Moodey looked expectantly at him, hoping he understood.  
  
"Alright, I think I understand what you mean."  
  
Moodey sighed, relaxing. "Just promise me you aren't going to try to move your body here, alright?"  
  
Harry grinned at him, shaking his head. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Harry searched for the light the fifth time that night. It was close to six-thirty, two weeks after he began his Occlumency. He was more than just a little frustrated, and more than just a little exhausted. He had had success in small measure, but the most frustrating thing, he found, was that he had had no time to seek out Hermione, who was becoming increasingly reclusive.  
  
After a trip to Diagon Alley four days ago, Harry had seen her with a rather absurd pile of books covered by an oddly colored cloak and with a number of other strangely shaped packages poking out of her arms. He was worried, to say the least, but the only person she would let into her room upstairs was Lupin, and whenever Harry asked, he only shook his head.  
  
"Harry, she will speak to you when she feels up to it, but it is not my place to tell you anything."  
  
Harry hated these words, though he had heard them many times. He tried so hard to focus, but his worries continued to file into his head. Wordlessly, he pushed them from his mind, and sought out the hole. He was annoyed, terribly, that Moodey was still trying, since only a few minuets ago the Auror had told him to meditate while he went down for some tea before dinner.   
  
Moodey never ceased to amaze Harry. He would surprise him with intrusions incessantly. The most embarrassing these 'training experiences' had ever become was one night around one in the morning when the old man had caught Harry in the bathroom. He hadn't spoken to Moodey for a full day, and once the twins had caught wind of it, they began work on 'lolling leaker's', a lemon-flavored candy that made the victim spit yellow urine-smelling liquid. Needless to say, Harry was still having trouble when they went to him for more 'inspiration'.  
  
Still, it was irritating that Moodey was intruding on Harry a half-hour before dinner. He focused irritably on the little light, and felt himself grinning in a self-satisfied way when he pinned the point down and closed in to 'squash the little bugger'. The few times he had succeeded, he had felt a sort of tickling joy which put a grin on both his and Moodey's face the rest of the night, much to the curiosity of the rest of the family.  
  
He was closing in to flatten his instructor when a quiet echo filled his mind.  
  
~/If he loses his means to cross the defenses, then he cannot survive, cannot kill./~  
  
It felt like someone had poured cold water down his back. He hurriedly extinguished the light with the terrified tenacity Ron would sometimes squash a spider. Taking one last look around, Harry opened his eyes and jumped to his feet, noticing he was covered in sweat.  
  
Harry leapt to his feet, ran downstairs, and burst into the room as the rest of the family was settling down to dinner, Hermione at the base of the stairs as if she were going up to fetch him. He ran past her and loomed over Moodey, shaking himself. The Auror stared up at him raptly, sensing at once something was awry.  
  
"WHAT THE DEVIL WERE YOU PLAYING AT?"  
  
The rest of the family stared at him. Mr. Weasley dropped his fork loudly on his plate.  
  
"What are you talking about, Harry?"  
  
"What the devil do you mean, you know, the Occlumency, your latest 'training session', what you just said five minuets ago!" Harry panted.  
  
Moodey stood suddenly, eyes riveted on him. "What did I say, Harry?" His tone had become icy.  
  
"You know damn well what you said!" Harry was shaking so badly that the fist at his side accidentally knocked a plate from the table, shattering it.  
  
Mrs. Weasley, looked at him, concern and fear written on her face.  
  
"'If he loses his means to cross the defenses, then he cannot survive, cannot kill.'. Blast it, Moodey, you said it yourself, you scared the hell out of me..."  
  
Mrs. Weasley stood slowly, reaching for him.  
  
Moodey froze the room as he spoke.  
  
"I didn't say it, Harry. I wasn't there, I was having tea with Charlie and Bill." His eyes projected the rest.  
  
Harry suddenly looked physically ill, losing all of his color in moments. Molly touched his arm gently.  
  
"It's okay, Harry, we're here for you... It'll be alright.. Just--"  
  
Harry shook her hand off of him violently, and suddenly burst out, angrier than ever.  
  
"Dammit, I am alone! I've been alone forever, I'll be alone forever, and I don't want any of your crap saying that you'll make sure I'm not!"  
  
It seemed as though nothing could break the silence that followed this. All of the children and adults at the table stared transfixed at Harry, barely able to process what he had said.   
  
The sound of skin against skin broke the breathless shock with violent tenacity.  
  
"Harry James Potter, you are the most insufferably arrogant boy I have ever known!"  
  
Harry stared ahead, his hand coming slowly to his cheek as the front door slammed shut.  
  
~~~~~ 


	6. Thunder and Thorns

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Six: Thunder and Thorns  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!  
  
~~~~~  
  
Harry looked around the table at the others staring at him, first to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. The twins had begun to unconsciously stand, glaring, because someone had insulted their mother. Bill and Charlie shook their heads and sighed heavily, relaxing again. Ron and Ginny stared at Harry, mouths open. Moodey looked as if he were going to go into shock. Lupin brushed past Harry immediately and began to run out the door into the pouring rain, which seemed odd to Harry because up until this point, he had not noticed that it was raining, and it seemed silly to be yelling out there since everyone was inside. A heavy shock of thunder rolled through the room, rattling the plates in the cupboards.  
  
"Hermione!!! Hermione!!"  
  
Harry heard Lupin's voice echo, muffled through the rain, and quite suddenly everything that had just happened rushed up at him and he choked. Something cold seemed to slip into his stomach as he realized what he had done, who Lupin was yelling for, that it was getting dark and it was raining. Harry gathered his thoughts and took a deep breath which came back out in more of a choking sound, but it was good enough considering matters at hand.  
  
"S...m'sorry..."  
  
He turned and ran towards the door to leap outside, but quite suddenly he felt a rather strong grip on his arm. He turned and stared at Arthur Weasley, who had an unreadable look on his face.   
  
Harry vaguely wondered if he would be killed.  
  
Mr. Weasley pushed a heavy rain slicker into his arms, and squeezed his arm again. Harry looked up at him, and at Mrs. Weasley who was standing beside her husband. He gasped for air, trying to find words. At that moment, Lupin ran in, completely soaked and shivering madly.  
  
Harry looked up. "I have to find her."  
  
Lupin nodded and took his glasses as he slipped on the slicker, 'impervius' echoing in his ears. He stopped, looking at the Weasleys.  
  
Pausing for a moment he bowed his head, "I was wrong, I..."  
  
A hand went through his hair and Mrs. Weasley looked down at him with tears on her cheeks. He looked up in surprise.  
  
"You'd better both come back safe, Harry..."  
  
The boy ran into the darkness. He looked back through the pitch black, at the small lit doorway, the hand bidding him well.  
  
He grabbed his Firebolt and flew into the sky, scanning the ground.   
  
~~~~~  
  
The thorns were becoming too thick to see through. Harry was getting immensely frustrated, angry that Hermione had chosen such a ridiculously difficult place to run to. That was her, difficult. He sighed, both annoyed and worried, and spluttered on the water in his mouth.  
  
He had no idea why he was so worried, or why it mattered so much. His brow crooked as he looked below. The water seemed to be flowing in little rivers on the ground, and his heart stopped a bit. He remembered Ron telling him that the low-lying areas around his home had a tendency to flood in short and violent spurts during summer rain, and that George had come very close to drowning when he was very young because he had been caught in one playing seeker-snitch with his brother.  
  
~Hermione had better be smart enough to go for higher ground..~   
  
An angry growl of thunder echoed again and Harry looked nervously at the sky. He licked his lips, frustrated and worried. Without warning, a blinding light burst above him, and he was half-knocked off of his broom. He shook his head, determined to keep looking. He wasn't going to lose his blasted friend because of a storm.  
  
"It'd be good training for Quiddich, if it weren't for the fact that it could kill you," He muttered.  
  
Harry stared at the ground obsessively, looking for any flash of brown hair or cloak. He wondered why he hadn't seen her yet before he remembered that a person on foot could probably move faster than a broom-rider against the wind. He considered touching down, but thought against it given the visual advantage he had. Hermione would probably slow down from cold after awhile- much as Harry hated to think of it, it was still an advantage.  
  
The wind pushed him sideways a bit, and despite the slicker Harry shivered. It was getting harder and harder to see. He guessed that the spell was wearing off. He let go of the broom handle and raised his wand to tap his glasses, looking nervously down at the increasingly forceful deluge moving through the valley with his blurred sight. He tapped the glasses, his voice lost in the gust of wind that stole them away from him and knocked him off of his broom.   
  
Harry yelled out as they fell away from him, and grasped the handle of his broom in a trembling grasp. The slick handle glimmered at him in the lightning flashes, and a horrible memory of the demise of his Nimbus echoed in his head. Harry heard the rush of water burst beneath him, and looked down at the brown, roiling wetness.   
  
A sudden burst of lightning flashed directly above him, the shock of it costing Harry his grip. The broom flew, safely, into the thorns beside the river. Harry, however, was not that lucky.  
  
Gasping, he hit the waves hard and struggled for the shore, holding onto a vine. He coughed hard, and knew at that moment that he was going to die.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N: yeah, a shorty, but the next one is coming tonight too. 


	7. Water and the Ward

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Seven: Water and the Ward  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!  
  
~~~~~  
  
The ground was very wet and very cold. There was the sound of running water nearby. He didn't remember much after dipping under the surface for the last time and slamming into a fallen tree, but Harry was convinced he was dead. A red log floated bye...  
  
~Wait, red logs don't have the word 'firebolt' written across the side.~  
  
~Red logs?~  
  
Harry reached instinctively for it and pulled his somehow intact broom onto the sticky shore. He stood up, shaking a bit from side to side, wandering between the thorny underbrush into the nearby woods. Somehow, despite everything, Harry still held to the vestiges of warmth. He had to remember to thank whoever gave him his slicker.  
  
Only one name stuck out in his mind when he first stumbled through the brush. He was looking for her without question, knowing somehow where to turn, only able to see by fortune. He had no idea where his glasses had gone, but since the storm had passed it really did not matter.  
  
He almost ran into her at first, through the blurred lines thinking she was some sort of broken tree. When she saw him, he heard her sobs, a hand holding out something bumped into him moments later.  
  
He put on his glasses, newly repaired by the girl before him, and looked into her running eyes beneath the dripping water of the forest. She seemed to sob without tears, or at least Harry couldn't distinguish between them and the rain. Her soaked hair was slicked across her cheeks and forehead.  
  
She was trembling terribly, obviously past tolerance of the cold. He reached out, but she slapped his hand away.  
  
"D-d..don't touch me..."  
  
He looked at her, silent and shocked. He made a grab for her, and she tried to pull away again, but he forced the slicker around her shoulders as her struggles became weak quickly. She still tried to pull away from him, the dry sobs shaking her.  
  
He let her go, and she turned to him, tearful eyes full of wrathful pride. She still stood, even though she should have fallen before this.  
  
"h..How could you? We've tried... s..s... so hard..... and you st..still push us away..."  
  
He looked at her, dumbed by her words. He reached for her again, although he did not know why. This time she pulled away, forcing back her shivering.  
  
"No, I am Harry Potter, the poor boy who lived, who lost! I am the only one who has suffered, the only one who has felt pain!"  
  
"hermione.." Harry spoke in a whisper.  
  
"Are you so arrogant to think you are the only one who has lost?"  
  
"Her-"  
  
"No Harry, No! 'Pity me, I am so bloody alone, so bloody empty, so bloody entitled to my misery, even though everyone I know would die for me!'"  
  
Anger rose inside of him suddenly. "That is why I'm alone, Hermione, I don't want that! I don't want to kill all of you!"  
  
"WAKE UP!" Hermione screamed. It echoed through the woods, vibrating off of the damp bark.  
  
Harry stared dumbly.  
  
"You aren't so bloody entitled. We love you for a reason, and we always have for a reason, not because you are the boy who lived, or because you have a ruddy scar on your damned forehead, because you are beautiful..." She sobbed weakly, only once. Harry opened his mouth, but she went on.  
  
"And nothing, Harry, not death, not curses, not Voldemort himself will make any of that different... We love you so much it hurts, so much it makes our hearts bleed...."  
  
He stared. She looked at him with wide eyes in the quiet fall of dripping water.  
  
"Don't turn that against us, Harry... Don't act like you don't have someone, because you do...."  
  
She moved closer unconsciously, his eyes boring into her.  
  
"Don't turn it against us by throwing your life away..."  
  
He was close enough to see the tears slipping from her brown eyes, fear and courage blended in the depths of her mind. He knew at that moment why she had run.  
  
"don't take it away from people who lost... don't steal the least thing we love... that we have left to love..."  
  
The tears continued to slip down her face.  
  
"That I have left to... love..."  
  
Harry sucked in the air a bit. She leaned forward, trembling lips brushing within inches, within centimeters of his. Her eyes looked up into his, eyes which had seen pain, which had lost, and which loved insurmountably. The vision of her father's death played again and again in his mind as each tear slipped down her cheeks.  
  
Her eyes looked up into his, her shivering lower lip brushing his, and quietly her head bent forward and she sobbed into his chest, sinking slowly to the ground.   
  
Harry was afraid to touch her. He simply slipped to the forest floor with her, looking down at the top of her head. His heart hammered in his chest, her hand pressed over it, the most absurd sensation coming over him where she touched him.   
  
As he knelt above her on her knees, he placed a hand on her shoulders. She sat back after a minuet, her unfolded hands curling into fists, punching him feebly in the chest as she shivered once more. She closed her eyes, hitting him tearfully.  
  
"Harry, you are the most insufferably arrogant boy I have ever known..."  
  
The rain dripped down over their heads. She opened her eyes, strings of midnight hair hanging down.   
  
He slipped his fingers into the hair behind her neck and smiled down at her suddenly. She looked up at him, shocked.  
  
"Hermione, you are the maddest girl I have ever known."  
  
She sniffled.  
  
"Don't be silly, Harry,"she murmured tiredly.  
  
He raised an eyebrow, cocking his head.   
  
"I'm the only girl you've ever known!"  
  
He looked offended, but smiled, standing up and slipping out the Firebolt. He flipped his leg over it, beckoning her to sit behind him. "What about Cho?"  
  
"Oh, she doesn't count."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"She got a sex change and moved to Saskatchewan."  
  
Harry nearly slipped off of the broom as he bucked into the air, but Hermione only giggled reassuringly and wrapped her arms around his waist.  
  
"I'm kidding Harry. You would have read it in Luna's column if it were true."   
  
Harry shook his head, deciding by the quiet snoring behind him that her would ask about the column and just how Hermione had become so chummy with Luna Lovegood in the morning.  
  
  
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N: Hey everyone, three in one day! 


	8. Melody Box

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Eight: Melody Box  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!  
  
A/N: If you want to find the song played in the music box, it is called Deja Blue, and it is on Kazaa lite. I highly recommend it!! It is derived from a song called: "Yakusoku wa Iranai; I Don't Need Promises", another one I recommend.  
  
~~~~~  
  
When Harry dragged in Hermione, who was somewhat awake at this point, it took him a good ten minuets to explain to a rather panicked Mrs. Weasley that they were both alright. Hermione looked completely saturated, but otherwise fine. Harry was, in fact, the one who looked ruffled, probably because of his dip in the flood. He looked evenly at the flaming woman before him, staring. She was, after all, a rather frightening person. Her husband looked apologetically at Harry from a distance while the boy smiled weakly.  
  
Lupin came forward quietly with two towels, ushering the children away from Molly and towards the fire. There were two mugs of hot chocolate steaming before them, and soon enough the other children crept quietly down the stairs and began asking questions with rapt attention. Harry was shocked how quickly he was forgiven, but Ron only winked at him when he asked, after his mother was out of hearing range.  
  
"Well you know Harry, we've all had a bit of a scuff with her on one matter or another, and this just proves you're one of the family. And admittedly, I'm a bit glad you spoke up. She's been too protective of you and it wears on a guy."  
  
Fred nodded gravely. "Mum is a love, really, but she tries to protect all of us too much, and there comes a time when a guy- and a girl, sorry Gin- just has to stand up and tell her to face facts. If she tries to protect you too much-"  
  
"-she'll only get hurt." George finished, smiling.  
  
"Look Harry, the point is, even though you were rude, you did the right thing." Ginny finished the sentiments of her brothers, which were affirmed by a swift nod from even the oldest.   
  
Charlie smiled at him. "Besides, mum'll forgive you, you were damn scared to death, and I'd be too in your place."  
  
Bill bowed his head. "Yeah Harry, you looked positively shaken, white as a ghost. What brought it on?"  
  
Harry sighed a bit, rubbing his eyes. He was beginning to get tired, and smiled wearily at the others. "I'll tell you in the morning, right?"  
  
A bit disappointed, though obviously understanding, the crowd around him parted and Harry trudged up the stairs and towards the room he shared with Ron. He paused, though, outside of Hermione's room, peering through the slightly open door.   
  
He had barely even noticed she had left downstairs, and worried vaguely that she was upstairs crying, perhaps.   
  
He heard the sound of something being wound, and then the delicate chords of a music box echoed into the empty hallway. He placed his eye to the slit and looked in.   
  
Hermione sat on her bed, looking curiously at the box, squeezing water from her hair into a bucket on the floor, talking to nothing quietly. He began to hear quiet words from between the crack, and suddenly realized she was talking to her parents, at least it seemed she was. He peered for a time into the room, looking at the box.  
  
On the side the words 'Little Feather' were engraved. Hermione smiled faintly, and yawned, turning out the light.  
  
Harry slipped the door shut silently and padded to his bed.  
  
~~~~~  
  
The next morning a rowdey company sat at the table, grinning widely. Harry was silent, oddly, and looked at his bacon and eggs as if they might grow legs. He had been thinking on the voice her heard the night before and was truly concerned by morning time.   
  
At first he could have sworn it had been Dumbledore, but this idea had been quashed quickly by the realization that the Headmaster had been at a board meeting with the Ministry of Magick at that time last night, and he would hardly bother to test Harry in the middle of a dissertation about the threat Voldemort presented. His brow furrowed as he chewed, thinking.  
  
No matter how he turned it over in his mind, Harry was convinced the dark lord had attempted to enter his mind. When he voiced his concern to the present company, several people looked rather horrified, Lupin's brow furrowed as he muttered the words Harry had written down from the intrusion again and again. Moodey continued looking at Harry darkly and chewing his eggs while he thought.  
  
"These eggs are like rubber, Molly." Alastor muttered vaguely.  
  
"Then you'll be eating rubber." She replied irritably, "Now what is it you were saying, Harry dear?"  
  
"Well, it was just that I think it might've been Voldemort and-" He was interrupted by a knocking on the table, and severla heads turned to Hermione, who was sitting quietly at the last seat with a large smile on her face.  
  
"Well then, you'll be allot happier now, won't you Harry?"  
  
He gave her a look that could have melted steel. "Well actually Hermione, no. I'm really rather concerned about the Lord of Darkness popping into my head, but thanks for your concern."  
  
"Don't be silly, Harry, it's a good thing!" She smiled, eating a strip of bacon.  
  
"And just how do you come up with that?" Ron gave her an utterly confused face. Harry was too busy being outraged to notice a look of wonder coming over Lupin's face and a sudden laugh tickling Moodey.   
  
"Well, because your Occlumency obviously worked."  
  
"Actually Herm, me hearing him means I failed, failed miserably, and I..." He suddenly paused, a look of wonder coming over his face as he turned to Lupin and Alastor.   
  
"..And you didn't kill any of us, you had a tantrum because you were scared, but you blocked Voldemort and got on with being scared. Get it?" She gave Harry and Ron the patient look she often did when they weren't absorbing something.  
  
Ron looked over at Harry, eyebrows hidden beneath his bangs. "Blimey..."  
  
Moodey barked with laughter. "You didn't tell us you snuffed out the 'dark lord' when he tried to get in your head!"  
  
"Well, I didn't think on it..." Harry was vaguely offended by the use of the word 'tantrum' and blinked, between cheering and an unhappy glare. Soon enough, a smile began to steal over him, though, and he began to laugh. Ron started to high-five him as the other boys stood up and started patting him and Hermione on the back, chuckling heartily. Ginny hugged him in a friendly way and laughed with him. The good mood continued when Hermione sneezed and Lupin began to seek out his cure-all for the two of them, because they looked like they were coming down with head colds.  
  
Mrs. Weasley sneaked off the the kitchen, and quickly magicked some large, sticky cinnamon rolls. Soon everyone was celebrating, sipping cocoa, and eating the wonderful sticky buns. Harry looked around the room, laughing more heartily than he had in a great time. It was a rediculously odd reason for celebration, and yet it lightened his heart wonderfully.  
  
Not his Quiddich victories, his victory for the house cup, his success in the Goblet of Fire, or any number of other successes had ever felt as wonderful as the first time Harry conquered Voldemort without bringing harm to another.   
  
Silently, Harry wished Sirius had lived to see this day. His tearful moment of thought surmounted in a quiet toast to his Godfather, and for the first time Harry openly mourned to the people who meant the most to him.  
  
As Harry looked in each solemn face, he swore that this would not be the last bloodless victory. He would carry them through the war, and come what may, at the next celebration there would not be a toast.   
  
Harry sipped the steaming cocoa, and smiled in the heat.   
  
This was why he would succeed, and why he would live. He would fight anything to make sure he didn't end up alone, as he had thought he already was. Hermione had been right, as usual.  
  
She looked up at him from a chair, and in those chocolate eyes he saw it, that aggravating smile said it perfectly.   
  
She knew she was right, too.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N: Special thanks to Dvomang, who had a lovely way to solve the chaptering acess issue, and this works for any story. If you see the chapter listed but you can't contact it, do this: call one of the chapters up, add the following after the story ID number. &chapter=6L The last part is the chapter number plus any capital letter. Thanks for the help!  
  
Tiger Lily: I'm trying, I'll do as much as I can. I'm hoping I'll be well into this by the end of August, aka something like a chapter every day or two, maybe more.  
  
Evil Lady: Sorry, that Cho thing would be a little too drastic, but use it for any story you want!  
  
Psy_Girl: For me to know and you to find out. Their kiss or not kiss matter is a tough one, so you'll have to keep reading.  
  
HrryPttrFreak87: thank you!  
  
Hermione_123: actually I'm not from that wonderful nation just North, but I do find it beautiful, and I thought it would be just random enough for Cho to 'move' to Canada from her homeland.  
  
Chelle: I will comply, then. Here is another, and possibly one tomorrow.  
  
PadfootOldBuddyOldPal: Well, you know some of the answers, and there is a solution to the chapter issue right above.  
  
Songbyrd14: *Crosses fingers* I hope I can, too!  
  
Thanks all, you're wonderful!  
  
~~~~~ 


	9. Essays and Columns

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Nine: Essays and Columns  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!  
  
A/N: Yay for making up more stuff! Believe me, I've been doing my research, but if there isn't an item you are looking for in lore, then I certainly won't waste my creative license!  
  
  
  
~~~~~  
  
That evening, Ron glared weakly at his potions essay, eyes drooping. Beside, him, Harry blinked at his own. He begged his tired brain to remember something from Herbology and not have to go through the embarrassment of asking Hermione another question.  
  
~Stavesacre's synonym... is.... bloody.... it's in the.... uh.... plant family?~  
  
"..blast."  
  
Hermione's head shot up from her own scribbling and before Harry could retract his words Hermione was looking over his shoulder at the essay.  
  
"Oh, Harry..."  
  
Ron stifled a sob as she snatched his paper and looked it over as well.  
  
"Um, Harry, Ron... this is your Herbology report you're writing here. Snape's essay isn't on parasiticides, it's on the facets and uses of Deadly Nightshade. But it's easy to correct."  
  
She winked at them and moved the back of her newly-bought Hawksquill pen over the writing and the words erased, and then she brushed the feather over the new parchment and the words reappeared. They looked at her, a bit confused, though happy, and gazed admiringly at the pen.  
  
"Yes, it's rather handy. You shake it over the wastebasket it you just want to erase, and if you want to copy notes, you use the side instead." She looked at them gravely, "I'm sure, though, that there will be no copying. Besides, I had the store owner disable the copying ability."  
  
The boys looked at her as if she was rather insane and had two or three projections sticking out of her brow. She shrugged this off and continued the 'lesson'.  
  
"Harry, you really ought to know Stavesacre is in the Larkspur family, not.... oh really Harry, not the 'plant' family."  
  
"Ron!" her shout made him jump, "Sprout would tear this up, really, you should NEVER, unless under VERY specific circumstances, ingest Stavesacre, it's terribly poisonous!" She looked at him gravely as though trying to convey the seriousness of his mistake. Ron just stared back blearily.  
  
She turned back to Harry, and he shrunk back in his seat a bit. "Now, you ought to know that it's synonym is Lousewort, Harry. I know your Occlumency is important, but if you don't start focusing on the rest of your work you will have forgotten everything, and for goodness sakes, you only have two weeks left to finish all of this!" She gestured to the great pile of homework before him.  
  
He glared up at her. "Well allot of good it would do me if I studied something else, if I don't get a handle on Voldemort peering through my eyes then I may be held back!"  
  
"They can't really do that, can they Harry?" Ron looked shocked.  
  
Hermione wrung her blouse nervously, biting her lip, suddenly worried. "I'm afraid they could, Ron, on the grounds Harry could hurt someone. If someone catches wind of all that has happened this summer, He could... er...." She paused, looking up at Harry.  
  
"I could get expelled." Harry ended, leaning forward with an exasperated sigh. He snapped his book shut, rolling his parchment. "Look, I know it's important, but I'm getting really tired, you have to remember last night was pretty rough, and I'm beaten." He looked apologetically at Hermione, somehow feeling guilty he was leaving her to her work at the table. Even if it was Nine o'clock, she was only trying to help.  
  
~Since when have I felt bad for leaving homework 'til later?~  
  
Ron cocked his head at him, another thing that made him feel a bit ill.  
  
~Since she half-kissed me...~  
  
Harry had tried to convince himself it was a kiss, but in doing so had scared himself out of such thought, and had eventually settled on a state of accidental contact. After all, standing in a dripping-wet forest half-soaked didn't seem like the most romantic situation he could have though of. Besides, it was one of his best friends who had done it.  
  
He shuddered when he imagined Ron trying to kiss him. No matter how he considered it, it was just too unfathomably gross to have someone like his sister try to snog him.   
  
So why did he feel so peculiar around her? He decided to let the matter rest and sat at the table, sighing.  
  
"Can we talk about something other than schoolwork?" He said nonchalantly.  
  
Hermione huffed as she put her unimaginable pile of books on the floor beside her.   
  
"Sure."  
  
"You two have fun, I'm going to bed. Try not to step in anything foul Pig leaves for me on the floor when you come in, Harry."  
  
The black head bobbed in assent as he leaned on the table, gathering his thoughts. This was it, the time to bring up the matter that had been tearing at his mind for the past eighteen hours. Harry was fully prepared to face it.  
  
"So Hermione, um... what was the potions assignment again?"  
  
Harry felt too stupid to interrupt her five minuet dissertation. He buried his head in his arms as he listened to a list of the greater points of Deadly Nightshade, or Belladonna. His head swung with the synonyms.  
  
"Belladonna... Devil's Cherries... Naughty Man's Cherries... Divale... Black Cherry... Devil's Herb... Great Morel... Dwayberry..." She listed them off on her fingers.  
  
Harry nodded, hoping his head would stop hurting soon.   
  
"Hey!" He sat up suddenly, interrupting her flow on it's medicinal applications.  
  
"What, Harry?"  
  
"Since when are you so chummy with Luna?" He raised an eyebrow.  
  
Hermione bent over in answer, tugging an article from her bag and handing it to him. It was an excerpt from The Quibbler, weeks out of date.  
  
OPPINION COLUMN:  
  
Dastardly Assault on Muggle Villiage Leaves Wizarding World in Horror.  
  
Luna Lovegood Reporting  
  
The quiet Muggle village of Fairview was ruthlessly assaulted late last night by the  
  
warriors of the Dark Mark, servants of he-who-must-not-be-named. Between the fires of  
  
flaming houses, the screams of dying Muggle adults, the most despicable of acts were  
  
carried through under his heartless hand. What words cannot describe the Aurors and  
  
Ministry workers witnessed as the defenseless were slaughtered, children made to witness  
  
the demise of their parents. Brave gentlemen such as Alastor Moodey, Dark Arts  
  
professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, fought fearlessly to protect  
  
Muggles who he had never met. Enemies worked hand in hand in the name of one  
  
common goal beneath the glow of green light. The air was rent with screams, yet average  
  
beings, both young and old, sought to save lives. Even Hermione Granger, still a student  
  
of the aforementioned institution, took part in the conflict, although her participation was  
  
rooted in a different cause. After declining comment, as she was wounded, our news  
  
facility was alerted of the sad news later that her own parents were among the dead.   
  
Such deeds that rob both young and old of family and life must be put to an end. If the  
  
Wizarding community can go about it's business proudly when a murderer causes the  
  
bravest of them to cower, and quarrels to emerge between the most powerful of them,  
  
then we are truly a doomed race.   
  
The Fairview Massacre and it's victims must be remembered, for some of it's victims were  
  
those who fought with the most conviction. Those who have lost must convert their  
  
sorrow into courage. Our leaders must make alliances, now.  
  
In other news, the Bean-Nighe has been spotted yet again. Details on page 7c....  
  
The clipping ended there. Harry looked up at Hermione oddly  
  
"But why are you getting on with her now?" He cocked his head.  
  
"Because I told her, hoping that she would get what happened there out in the open... She said I didn't comment, but I told her everything, hoping she'd get the message out, in the opinion column. Besides, I found something else out. The Quibbler is coded. You see, in every issue it has the exact same number of pages as the coinciding issue of the Daily Prophet, and if you put them next to eachother, Luna's father makes sure he puts the... errr... less believable stories in coinciding spots with stories that have faulty information in the Prophet. The Bean-Nighe story coincides with a piece in 7c of the Prophet where Fudge continues to apologize for his misconduct regarding the matter concerning Voldemort. You see, faulty information! We know Fudge is about as sorry for the matter with Voldemort as he is that the Prophet believes him."  
  
Harry nodded, shocked. Hermione seemed extremely excited.  
  
"Don't you see, Harry! It's a perfect key! We an know exactly what the lies are, well, sort of! They are doing a great thing by alerting the people! I'm sure I'm not the only one who has realized this, it only took me a few weeks of reading and I got it, not that Mr. Lovegood doesn't fully believe the stories he edits, he trusts every one, but the unbelievable ones are a sure source! Harry, we have a prophet for the Prophet!"  
  
Harry absorbed this, smiling, then laughing. "Brilliant as usual..." He grinned at her.  
  
She blushed a little, and Harry's thoughts turned to the matter which had brought this about.  
  
"So... you don't hate Luna?" He breathed deeply, hopeful.  
  
Hermione bowed her head. "Oh, no.... she's been helping... me... deal with my parents, you see..." She smiled weakly.  
  
Harry smiled. "She helped me, too. With Sirius." Hermione smiled at this. Suddenly she touched his arm.  
  
"Harry, are you alright.... about that?"   
  
He shook his head a bit. "It... won't get easy that fast... I'm having a hard time... uh... dreams...." A bit of a flush rose on his cheeks.  
  
"I can understand that..." She looked sadly at the floor. "But I'll be here to help you, if you... want it..."  
  
He smiled at her. "Why don't we kind of.. help eachother?"  
  
She smiled swiftly and nodded.  
  
They sat for awhile, looking into the fire, half expecting a head to appear before them. Hermione sighed quietly, eyes misting over.  
  
"Harry"  
  
He looked over at her in the flickering light, the two of them relaxed although sad.  
  
"I'm glad we talked...." She whispered, and stood, walking up to bed. In moments, she was gone. He listened to her door shut, staring blankly.  
  
He glared at the fire muttering to himself.  
  
"Hermione, I think I have a crush on you."  
  
He could have sworn the fire blushed, but it kept on flickering.   
  
Wearily, Harry went to bed. Stepping across the floor, Harry stepped in more than one disgusting thing Pig had brought to share with Ron. He grunted irritably and pulled the covers over his head.  
  
Happy as he was, Harry still felt like an idiot.   
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N: Yay, another chapter!!! 


	10. Alarm Clocks, Spiders, and Other Things

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Ten: Alarm Clocks, Spiders, and Other Things That Explode  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!  
  
~~~~~  
  
It seemed like little hot spikes were prodding into his eyes. Groaning, Harry stifled a yawn and looked at the ceiling blearily. Something soft and irritable was thumping against his chest hooting loudly. He looked exhaustedly at Pig, who was flipping excitedly and chewing on what looked like a field mouse. Harry closed one eye again, groaning, before looking at his small metal clock with the other.   
  
The little numbers read 11:30 and the date August 31.  
  
Pigwig didn't even have time to screech before he hit the opposite wall as Harry shot up. Muttering apologetically at the little bird, he began to throw everything in sight into his trunk, panicking, irritated thoughts racing through his head as he glared at the bleary half-light outside. He looked menacingly at the clock at his bedside, wishing it would explode for not waking him earlier.  
  
The little clock burst into flames.   
  
Harry leapt back in sheer terror, screaming, and at once slammed his hands over his eyes in horror. He thumped onto the uncarpeted floor, looking into the blankness of his palms. He had no idea how long he just sat there, but after what had to have been at least five minuets, a loud snort issued from the hallway. From what he could hear, Fred, George, and Ron had apparently just shared a very good joke, and he supposed they were coming to enlighten him.   
  
Lovely thing that he had apparently just developed heat vision. That would really get a laugh.   
  
The door opened, and feeling rather stupid, Harry turned vaguely in their direction, hands still firmly over his eyes, sitting on the floor. He could smell the smoldering pile of metal and gears from his left, and groaned. This was going to be rich.   
  
"... Morning..." Harry grimaced at the sounds they began to make.  
  
Fred giggled slightly. "I say Harry...." he twittered a bit, "what are you doing?"  
  
"Practicing Yoga?" George seemed calm, although Harry could detect an extremely amused note in his voice.  
  
The was a heavy thump on the floor, and Ron proceeded to gasp for air between yelps of laughter. Harry began to wish he could glare at them.  
  
"Well.... you see, it's really quite funny, my alarm didn't work, and so I woke up late and happened to be very cross about it. I happened to look at my clock and apparently I have heat vision because it exploded all over the ruddy room, so now I'm sitting here and-- WHAT IN THE HELL IS SO FUNNY?"  
  
There were two more thumps and pained laughter. Harry, at this point, really didn't care if he would kill them. If what he suspected was true, he rather wanted to.  
  
"OH BLIMEY, GEORGE, DID YOU HEAR THAT?"  
  
"HEAT VISION?"  
  
Ron was quietly sobbing with giggles into his slippers.   
  
"FRED YOU'RE A GENIUS!"  
  
"Well, yes, but.... HEAT VISION!"  
  
"OY!" Ron yelped, "AN EXPLODING ALARM CLOCK!" he wiped a tear from his eye, "Brilliant..."  
  
The boys continued to roll in helpless merriment until they noticed Harry was looming over them, looking fit to kill.   
  
What would have ensued could have become extremely violent if Hermione and Ginny hadn't come into the room calling the boys to breakfast.   
  
Harry took a look at his other clock on his bedside and relaxed. It was still August 31 but it was only Seven in the Morning. He went downstairs, reminding himself to slip a rubber spider into each of the twin's eggs. The sight of one alone would be punishment enough for Ron.   
  
As they wondered downstairs, he thought on the past few weeks. He was still making progress on his Occlumency, and had, on yet another occasion, halted Voldemort's advances.   
  
As far as Hermione was concerned, the further in time from the event Harry became, the less it bothered him. He pushed most related concerns to the back of his mind successfully, and despite the fact that he felt oddly emotional around her, nothing truly symptomatic of a crush occurred again.   
  
Somehow, the assignments had been finished, he had become well acquainted yet again with his Firebolt, and there seemed very few worries in his life aside from packing.   
  
Only one little phrase bothered him. Sometimes it made it difficult to sleep. The words taunted his mind at strange times, and at others he would feel ill. He was sure he would be sent to speak to Dumbledore on the matter upon his return, but Harry was just as determined to not seem panicked. He refused to owl his Headmaster, particularly one whom he was rather cross with, about some foolish number of words that might have been part of a dream.  
  
~If he loses his means to cross the defenses, then he cannot survive, cannot kill.~  
  
Rather upset for thinking about it, Harry stuffed the spiders into the two piles of eggs and sat down huffily next to Ron and Hermione. He buttered a muffin vehemently and stuffed it into his mouth, waiting irritably for the twins to tuck in.  
  
It began with Ron screaming and ended with Mrs. Weasley extinguishing two molten piles of goo with her wand. Little black spots clung to the ceiling everywhere, and Hermione had some rubber spider in her hair. Ron was reduced to a sobbing state of terror, and refused to touch his eggs throughout breakfast.   
  
All in all it had gone rather well, Harry admitted, as he scratched one red rubber eyeball from his fingernail. The four of them received a rather severe dressing-down for using explosives at the dinner table, Harry for providing the spiders, and Fred and George for making them combustible. Ron just looked rather pale.  
  
Most of the family went back upstairs for packing, but Harry held back for his lessons, considerably less worried for his recently revealed skills in intensive luggaging. Hermione, too, loomed beside Lupin, yet again well prepared and having packed days ago. She toted a few of her mysterious packages beneath her arms and looked about with the appearance of someone hoping they are not noticed.  
  
Harry slipped outside for his Occlumency, and Hermione moved somewhere into the back of the house.   
  
Moodey was pleased today, either because he was losing his charge, or because he didn't have to worry about losing him. He laughed several times when Harry blocked his attempts easily, and grinned toothily when Harry had a particularly disturbing look at a memory involving a salad fork and a member of the Dark Mark who wouldn't talk, all of which resulted on a dust landing in the garden. He sat up, smiling at his teacher.  
  
"Looking forward to being rid of me, sir?" Harry grinned beneath his bangs, brushing back his hair. "I'll bet you'll be glad to get back to your buisness."  
  
Moodey looked at him as if he were quite stupid and laughed again. Harry, not to be outdone, simply returned the laugh and shook the dust from his hair.  
  
"What do you mean, being rid of you? I haven't even begun to teach you!"  
  
Harry paused. "But you're leaving..."  
  
"Oh, I thought Granger showed you that clipping of hers... I thought you knew."  
  
Harry paused, not really understanding what he was saying at all. He stood there, scratching his head like a chimpanzee. Apparently his teacher felt sorry for him, and spoke up soon after.  
  
"I'm the new Dark Art's teacher, Harry!"   
  
Before this really processed, his head fell a bit to the side and he stared for a moment. Moodey took a sip from his flask and waited patiently.  
  
"... well?..."  
  
"Oh..." Harry looked blankly, then smiled, and began to laugh. "Malfoy is going to piss himself red when he sees you!" He continued to chuckle heartily, and had his mind rooted for it.   
  
He woke up with a splitting headache and Moodey looking rather grave.   
  
"Be careful, Harry, you have to be far more vigilant than that." He tone had the ashen quality of a burnt house. Harry rose, angered, and kicked the soil heavily.   
  
"Damn!" He spat viciously.  
  
"You know you are most vulnerable when you are feeling high emotion, same as he has been previously. You must use care, in any case, when you feel intensely about something."  
  
He glared. "I can handle it."  
  
"Good lord, as a prepubescent boy you should only be worried about, oh, every moment of your life..." Moodey muttered under his breath.  
  
Harry's face turned red. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."   
  
Moodey turned around, and before he knew it, Harry was on the ground again. He stood up, yelling irritably, and this time a heavy front fell over him, even if he couldn't see it. Moodey smiled inwardly.  
  
Harry was halfway off of his feet when he caught himself and sent Moodey through a wall. Laughing, the Auror told him he was the fourteenth person to have broken his left arm. Harry had a horrid vision of something vaguely involving seven disembowled Azkaban prisoners, and politely lost his lunch in a nearbye bush.  
  
They two of them stumbled inside to sit before an extremely unhappy Molly Weasley, tapping her wand against her palm, lips pursed tight.   
  
"Look at it this way, Harry, that look is reserved for family members!" Moodey whispered into his ear.  
  
Harry didn't know if he felt lucky, because he was too occupied stifling the urge to run.  
  
He manages a horrid smile, showing the gap where he had lost a tooth in one of their scuffles. Her frown deepened, and he sunk silently deeper into his chair, bracing himself.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Despite the fact that the regrowth of his tooth could have been made less painful, Harry found himself having a comparatively good evening. He was relieved to learn later the reason that none of the children had received a letter of appointment for student office was because of a specific request made by both Ron, and curiously enough Hermione, against the offer. Only Ginny was awarded to place of Prefect, and was giggling accordingly when she finally broke the news over dinner the final evening.   
  
Yawning, Harry leaned back in his seat an relaxed. The quiet banter around him bubbled on, and closing his eyes, he dozed off.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N: Yay? 


	11. Cross to Bear

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Eleven: Cross to Bear  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!  
  
A/N: Okay, this is going to be incredibly confusing but I'm trying to write it from Harry's POV so it has to be. Sorry for the puzzlement, hope it doesn't drive you away!  
  
~~~~~  
  
In the night it seemed as if everything held a sort of pre-arranged, joyous humor, however Harry awoke the next morning to a very different world.  
  
On September 1, Harry, the Weasleys, Lupin, Moody, and Hermione made the journey to King's Cross beneath the Autumn clouds and sporadic rain. Under the barren, unfriendly skies, Harry watched his luggage as it was loaded by a few of the orderlies. Something told him that his return to the wizarding world held completely different meaning than it had in previous years. There was little of the humor or calm of the previous day left within him, and instead he felt an ominous, trembling sensation. He found himself looking around as if he waited for something awful to happen. At the moment, a shadow fell beside him and he was instantly on guard, only to look up into the gray eyes of Remus Lupin. He stared at the last of the Marauders with a strange, faraway feeling through him.  
  
It began to rain.  
  
Memories of Sirius fell through him like the cold drops, his heart weighing him suddenly until he felt as if he were going to drown. Lupin only stared at him, a hand waiting, for a moment, featherlight on his shoulder. He looked so frail in the sickly light, and Harry had the terrible jolting impression that he might not see him again.   
  
~Why do I feel like I am marching to war?~  
  
The first warning whistle broke through the air, a light breeze clutching at him. He pulled his coat tighter, his throat clenching. He had the sudden desire to run back to the Dursleys, which frightened him in itself. He looked around as the rain began to fall harder, splattering roughly on the platform. There was suddenly a sound of fury behind him, then a scream and a heavy scuffle.   
  
Harry spun around, shocked, as Lupin was on the ground, out cold, and Draco and Hermione were alternately punching each other. Draco had his wand out, barely visable beneathe the folds of his cloak, and a wave of dread went through Harry as Malfoy angled it up at her. Harry charged him, and pushed him aside.   
  
All at once there was a hand on his shoulder, and Moody behind him, withholding a struggling and screaming Hermione around the throat.  
  
"SCUM! MALFOY, YOU DIRTY RAT!" She screeched.  
  
"YOU ARE GOING TO DIE, MUDBLOOD, LIKE YOU OUGHT'VE WITH YOUR DAMNED PARENTS! YOU TOO, POTTER!" The pale boy wailed.  
  
Harry wanted to kill him. Ginny had both her arms around Ron's waist and it was enough for Moody to have to lift both the children off of the ground. The person holding Draco slipped, and his wand shot up. His lips barely began to move when there was a howl and Lupin ran into the boy, seizing him.  
  
Hermione was struggling and making several strange noises, and as Harry relaxed, he noticed there was a large gash across her brow and her cheek was swollen. Ron, on the side, sported a black eye. Draco came out with a swollen nose and swore incessantly as Lupin continued to restrain him.  
  
"You can't bloody well defend your boyfriend forever, he'll turn his back sometime!"  
  
Lupin carried him onto the train, into one of the compartments with an escort of orderlies. Moody set them down, the last whistle echoing in the air. His face was a set look of fury.  
  
"Come with me." He muttered.  
  
Harry barely noticed that Lupin never left the train, and that all of Ron's brothers had boarded as well.  
  
He waved ashenly to the two remaining Weasleys, and followed Moody, expecting the worst. Ron trailed behind, groaning, and soon they stopped before an empty compartment. They entered, and Moody closed the door behind them. Breathing deeply, he turned.  
  
"Lucius Malfoy was put to death yesterday for crimes against the Ministry."  
  
Harry looked around him, and his mouth hung open in silent shock. He would have thought that he would smile at this news, but something cold seemed writhe in his guts in place of the satisfaction.  
  
"Miss Granger, I believe you have some explaining to do."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Hermione stared out the window without looking at any of them. Her brow continued bleeding, but nobody dared touch her. Finally she turned to them.  
  
"He tried to kill Harry." She stared at the floor, face screwed up in some sort of silent fury, "I tried to stop him... he had a knife.. I'm sorry, I should have controlled myself, but there was no time to warn him... and he.." her voice broke off into a single sob.   
  
Moody sighed, and looked at the three of them.  
  
"You do know you will most likely get detention for your 'scuffle'?"  
  
They nodded a bit, but Harry stood.  
  
"How in the.. how's that fair?! He bloody well tried to kill me!"  
  
"There is," Moody held up a hand, easing him back down, "no proof that he did. The only person who saw it was Miss Granger. Now, I believe her, and I am almost certain Albus will as well, however it will not be grounds for expulsion on his part," the three of them opened their mouths but he raised his voice, "BECAUSE he just lost a parent, and unfortunately there are certain rules which give leeway, very slight leeway, for violent outbursts in individuals under his circumstances."  
  
"That isn't fair! They'd expel one of us in the same situation!" Ron yelled.  
  
"No, they won't in this case." Silence fell over the cart. "because Miss Granger is in the same situation, despite the fact that this will most likely be looked upon as an unprovoked assault on Malfoy, since most present missed sight of the knife. I'm afraid that what you have done, Hermione, is rather serious."  
  
There was no response from her. She stared out the window.  
  
"But... but he threatened their lives... he called her a mudblood..." Ron stammered.  
  
"We all heard that, and while that will be taken into account, I am still afraid it will not be grounds to expel him. In fact if it weren't for past circumstances, then in this case Miss Granger would be in a rather worse situation than he." Moody looked extremely grave, but there was a cold note of resentment and fury in his voice that was not directed at them.  
  
Hermione only stared out the window, but in the reflection Harry swore he caught sight of a few tears.   
  
The door opened and Lupin walked in. Harry and Ron stared in shock at this. He stood beside Moody, his eyes on Hermione, filled with anger.  
  
"How could you have been so stupid as to do that in public?" he hissed.  
  
She turned, froze, a look of horror coming upon her face suddenly. "Oh... oh no...Sir... I... I had to, Harry was.... I had to protect him!"  
  
"They could have seen you, Hermione. HE could have seen." His voice was terribly cold. "You know that if..."  
  
"I KNOW, I know... but he was... Lupin... oh... he was going to..." She was cut off.  
  
"You could have asked us for help." His tone became a bit less cold, "I know you meant well, but they do not know, and nobody can. Even all of you." He eyed the others wordlessly, and by the quiet fire in his eyes, each knew to be silent. His gentle tone and demeanor of the past seemed utterly separate from this alien fury. Beneath all of the anger, Harry swore there was only one driving emotion in his eyes.  
  
Fear.  
  
"You know what they are trying to do and what he has become. I expected better, and if you do not prove to be less careless than this in the future, then I will leave." He stood.  
  
Hermione looked horrified. "No... Please... Lupin, I will try harder... please, just let me have one more chance...."  
  
He went over wordlessly tipping up her chin, and moved his wand to her forehead, healing the wound gently, sighing with a deep sorrow.   
  
"That is one more than you will have in the end..." He murmured. He held her eyes for a moment, and then wordlessly, left the room. Ron turned to her, mouth opening, but she held up a hand.  
  
"Don't ask, because I can't tell either of you. I'm sorry, but please, promise me you won't try to find out..."  
  
"Hermione, we're worried though, I mean..." Ron stammered.  
  
"Don't."   
  
Harry's head spun with confusion.  
  
She turned and looked out of the window.  
  
Harry had a horrible feeling about what had just transpired. He looked up at Moody, but he man just wordlessly began to heal Ron's black eye. He stood and sat beside Hermione. She stared at the discolored sky and the heavy drops on the panes. He placed a hand on her arm.  
  
He paused a moment. "Thanks.... for saving me..."   
  
She looked at him quietly, and only blinked. Her eyes were full of tears, but they refused to fall.   
  
Outside, it rained, the sky crying for her. He wanted to tell her how angry he was, how unfair it was that events had gone as they had, but it all seemed to matter so little, argument and fury over the injustice of the system seemed to have been left in the dust of years past. He pushed back his ranting confusion and waited. His hand hovered for a few more moments on her arm. Moody exited at this, and left the three of them alone.  
  
She stared at him. The door clicked open and shut twice.  
  
Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood, who now had blue hair, walked into the compartment along with the woman with the food cart. Harry vaguely handed the woman some money and she loaded an array of sweets off of the cart for all of them. Although none of them really felt particularly hungry, Harry, Ron, and Hermione reached out habitually for a piece of chocolate. Luna and Neville sat down with them, and each unconsciously grabbed a bag of Bertie Bott's. Neither payed attention to whatever flavor they chose, though. After a few moments Ginny also slipped in from the prefects car and sat beside Ron.  
  
As if they had purposefully convened, Luna cleared her throat after Ginny had taken a chocolate frog.   
  
"Harry?" She looked at him curiously, her eyes roving to Ron in amusement at that moment. Neville shuffled a bit beside her, and as Harry replied she looked at him with mild surprise, as if seeing the awkward boy for the first time. She smiled at him.  
  
"Yes?"Harry murmured.  
  
"We're all a bit curious. Will there be a DA this year?" She looked at him expectantly, the half-dreaming look in her eyes wandering vaguely to Hermione. Harry was sure he saw Luna's eyes change color then, and tried not to react to it as he spoke.  
  
"Well... uh... um... I don't really think there is a problem... so yes, of course... if Dumbledore will let us have organized meetings. I mean, I don't know who is going to be the Quidditch captain..."  
  
They all stared at him.  
  
"What?" Harry felt terribly confused, and he was beginning to forget what it felt like to not be so.  
  
Luna smiled serenely, tugging vaguely on her nose and staring at Ginny's feet. "Oh, you'll be the Quidditch captain, it's fairly obvious to everyone."  
  
Harry felt a bit more ill instead of happy. The last thing he needed at that moment was more responsibility. He groaned.   
  
Ron seemed to read his mind and immediately piped up. "We could go out for captain together, kind of help each other, I mean, if you want to... With your Occlumency and everything else, I'm not busy this year..." Ron fidgeted a bit, and Luna watched his ear dazedly.  
  
Harry just gave him a look of complete smiling relief, and the matter was settled.   
  
Slowly, the conversation traveled from the DA to more soothing matters. Harry leaned back, watching the ceiling silently, the shadows deepening to darkness and the lights coming on somewhere within the expanse of his detachment. He felt as if someone had just stuffed his head full of cotton tissue, mind spinning into darkness. Gradually he dozed off. The train slowed suddenly, and Harry was shaken out of his light sleep by the movement, realizing that they had already arrived.   
  
He braced his shoulders as he, Hermione, and Ron walked off of the train, led by Lupin, who was still very tight-lipped and flashing angry glares at Hermione, up to the Castle. They bypassed the Great Hall and were lead to the Headmaster's office which was, thankfully, no longer inhabited by Madam Umbridge.  
  
"Peppermint Patty"Lupin muttered.  
  
Silently, they filed up the stairs, and into the room where the Professor was facing a white-blonde head. The boy in the chair was moving strangely, and a quiet sort of sound echoed in the room. They froze.  
  
Draco Malfoy was crying.  
  
~~~~~ 


	12. Tears

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Twelve: Tears   
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!  
  
A/N: Thanks to my new beta and first reviewer, SillyGillie! Woo! And another chapter done! Gillie beta-ed this during the east-coast power outage, on weird programs, so it's doubly awesome. Cheer the beta on!  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Frailty"  
  
Paper war with papyrus petals,  
  
Burned in matches, two by two,  
  
Falling down in winding spirals,  
  
The light of the skies shining through.  
  
Ripping pieces of the story  
  
Until the tale is said and done,  
  
Paper hands in tearing glory,  
  
Till the war is won.  
  
Paper war in Papyrus castles,  
  
Reaching towards the burning sky,  
  
I stand alone, the paper soldier,  
  
White cut-out, with the palest eye.  
  
~~~~~  
  
The sobs continued as the small group crossed the threshold.  
  
The three children walked into the Headmaster's office silently, herded by Lupin, who's eyes were fixed, oddly, upon Draco. The thin man watched, eerie pupils motionless as he stepped towards the desk. He seemed to observe something that none of the others, perhaps save Dumbledore, could see.  
  
Harry paused, unmoving, at the sight of the bent blond head, unable to process any reaction. Beside him, Ron gaped in shock at Draco, torn between anger and an odd sort of confusion. Staring through the black panes, Hermione remained silent, looking past the decorated windows and obscure magical objects. Below, on the castle grounds, the echoes of black trees swayed on the ebony waters.  
  
Lupin, unfixing his eyes from the boy before him, nodded twice at the Headmaster. Dumbledore bowed his head in response, and Lupin walked over to Hermione, setting a hand on her arm. His soft voice echoed through the room, blending and undulating with the soft sobs.  
  
"I will be in my quarters. I expect you to report to me. I will have dinner brought."  
  
He looked down at her with his misty gray eyes, and left the room in silence.   
  
For several minuets, there was only the sound of the attempted stifled sobs of Draco Malfoy, the imperious, insulting, cruel boy. The boy who never cried, never cared, who tried to kill Harry and who threatened his friends.  
  
After a stretch of time, there was complete silence as the tears trailed off. There was a soft cough, and quietly, Harry turned to face the man behind the desk.  
  
"We must talk." Dumbledore had his head bowed.  
  
Hermione looked blankly into his gentle blue eyes and the boy in the chair, who was now staring imperiously around the room. Softly, she spoke to Draco.  
  
"Your father died."  
  
Draco looked at her, fire burning in his pale eyes. "Yes."  
  
Hermione stared at him. Suddenly, she walked towards him, a look of fury on her face.   
  
"So you finally understand."  
  
"Understand what?" He spat.  
  
She looked distantly out the window, into the darkness.   
  
"How it feels."  
  
He stood up, anger possessing him."I understand nothing of how you feel, Granger. I would rather DIE than understand for a single moment the thought of the likes of you."  
  
"Why?" She looked blankly into the darkness.  
  
"Because I..."  
  
"Are you afraid of becoming a Mudblood through your tears? Because only the dirty cry?" She turned, glaring at him.  
  
"HOW DARE YOU!" His hand flew, slapping her.  
  
She stared at him as her cheek swelled.   
  
"I pity you."  
  
"Don't bother!" He turned, walking towards the door.  
  
"I pity you because you refuse to admit you are human, and have to prove you are better than everyone by culling all of those who you are afraid of!" She yelled.  
  
"I am NOT afraid of the likes of you!!" He turned, shoulders trembling with rage.  
  
"Then why do you threaten us?" She cocked her head to one side, a preposterous curiosity in her voice. She watched as he sputtered. On the side, Harry stared.  
  
"Because... because you... you will destroy the world, we need to have... purity..." There were tears welling in his eyes.  
  
She looked at him, tears rising in her own. "Has it ever occurred to you, in all of your arrogance, that what he taught you might have been wrong? I know you hurt, but you can't translate your pain into murder, you'll only end up the same way."  
  
He turned, and slammed the door as he left.  
  
Hermione sank to the chair, and buried her face in the pillow. Harry slipped slowly into his own, and Ron gawked.  
  
"Why.. was his father killed, anyway? I mean, i thought they used the Dementor's kiss..." Ron muttered in puzzlement.  
  
"The Dementor's left our side, and unfortunately, our only option is to kill the most dangerous murderers... Draco's father killed at least 11 people." Dumbledore informed them. Harry stared for a moment, then faced the girl who remained sitting.  
  
"Hermione." Harry turned to her.  
  
"What?"  
  
He paused, weighing his words. "What the hell is going on?"  
  
"Harry..." Dumbledore remonstrated.  
  
She looked up from the pillow, eyes red. "I can't tell you..."  
  
"Why are you going after Malfoy like that? You'll get yourself killed!"Harry shrieked.  
  
"-He will not harm any of you." Dumbledore interrupted. "And I suggest you do not assume that he will."  
  
Harry stared at him, then turned to Hermione again. "Why can't you tell me? Or Ron?" His voice was rising in trembling confusion. "What are you hiding from us? Why?" He was starting to grow angry in his puzzlement, and was shocked to find the Headmaster's frail, thin hand pulling him back into his seat. Hermione was sobbing brokenly into her pillow.  
  
"Harry..." The old man murmured.  
  
Hermione spoke softly. "I CAN'T... It would... more than going after Malfoy... it would get us killed... you, Ron, me..." She sniffled, and buried her head again.  
  
The boy tried to stand, but this time Ron had his arm, too. The redhead had an odd look on his face as he watched Hermione. A look of recognition.  
  
"Herm..." Ron murmured.  
  
She looked up, appearing rather puffy. "hmuh?"  
  
"Go... to Lupin... an if he yells at you again, you can talk to us later, k?"  
  
"I deserve it..." She stood, dropping her pillow.  
  
"No! You don't!" Harry stood again, and two different hands pulled him down. "It's not fair, none of that was your fault, you were right, why doesn't anyone get that???"  
  
"Harry..." She began.  
  
"Don't take it lying down, It's not the Hermione I know!" He was staring at her desperately.  
  
"Harry..." Dumbledore managed.  
  
"Stop being so different, you've changed so much... You're hiding too many things, it isn't like you!" He was gaping at her, on the edge of panic.  
  
"You know Herm, he's right.." Ron intruded. He had a very odd look on his face.  
  
She looked at him. Harry turned too, desperate for some sort of support.  
  
Ron turned, looking nervous, to Harry. He took a deep breath. "It's like you, Harry.." Ron stared into the shocked green eyes, and continued. "..hiding stuff, running out at odd hours with strange missions..." He looked at his friend, silently, waiting for a response.  
  
Harry gawked at him  
  
Hermione looked at Ron with teary eyes.  
  
"Don't... you think it's about time that we'd be allowed our own secrets?" Ron offered, "I mean... It's hurting you, Herm... but... Harry, you have to admit that if she got O's on all of her O.W.L.'s then she should be smart enough to know what she's doing... I hope..." Ron looked nervously between the two of them. Hermione held onto the door, looking at Harry.  
  
He bent his head, staring at the ground. "Everyone's changed...." His eyes were wide.  
  
"Ron... thank you, Ron..." Hermione murmured.  
  
Harry glared at the ground. There was a hand through his hair, and he looked up to Hermione. "You don't know, you don't understand, and I'm sorry, but for now it has to stay that way...."She whispered.  
  
A few of her tears dripped onto his cloak. The door shut softly. Smiling gently, Dumbledore turned to Harry, and shook his arm gently.  
  
"I do not know how much this will help, but Harry... if you master your Occlumency, there may be more of a chance that she will tell you." Dumbledore murmured.  
  
"Arn't you going to question me about that, about what Voldemort said?" He spat.  
  
Dumbledore shook his head, eyes twinkling. "I think both you and I know that it is not the time for such things. I already know, perhaps more than you, even, but for now it wil-"  
  
"-have to stay that way." The boy sighed.  
  
"I'm sorry..." The elderly man murmured.  
  
Harry turned, looking blankly at him, nodding slightly.  
  
"Now, on the matter of the Quidditch Captainship..." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly at both the boys.  
  
The room spun a bit, but Harry held on to the conversation as he listened to the footsteps drown down the staircase.  
  
"Well, sir... Have you ever heard of a joint running?"Harry began.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Near to an hour later, Ron and Harry had managed to drag their weary feet to the base of Gryffindor tower, only to find yet another surprise at the base.   
  
"Where have you been?" The little redhead demanded.  
  
Ginny stood beside Professor McGonagall, who leaned slightly on her walking stick. The two of them looked rather imposing, standing beside Portrait Hole. Harry and Ron froze, torn between gratefulness for knowing someone waited to tell them the password, and horror of what might be waiting.  
  
"We've been waiting, Potter, for the opportunity to discuss this year's Quidditch team and our potential players!" McGonagall looked expectantly at Harry, her cheerful tone covering something deeper.  
  
"Erm.... What about Katie? Why isn't she up for... uh... captain...?" Harry found he couldn't resist this potential escape, however he was caught off guard by the look of sadness in the eyes of the two women before him.  
  
"Oh dear, we thought you..." McGonagall stared at them.  
  
"Harry... you missed the dinner... but... as Dumbledore was absent for Mal..foy's sake... Professor McGonagall had to deliver some... bad news... Katie, and several other people, didn't make it through the summer. They were either killed, or captured, while they were abroad. We thought you knew..." Ginny looked at them sadly.  
  
Harry paused, pain and sickness running through his body yet again.  
  
"What?" Ron stared at his sister. "Why didn't we know? Why didn't the papers-"  
  
"Mr. Weasley, the deaths were a guarded secret, the Ministry still refuses to admit they were the fault of Voldemort..." McGonagall paused. "They also refuse to let other publishers catch wind of such... However Dumbledore insists that you children are informed.." She looked at them.  
  
"Did you tell them... about Hermione... and Malfoy?"Ron asked, eyes riveted on the ground.  
  
"We told them about everyone whom we were sure had lost as a direct cause of Voldemort." There were a few tears in Ginny's eyes.  
  
The Professor, who looked much frailer for her encounter with a squadron of Ministry workers the past semester, sighed wheezily and tapped the painting of the fat lady to wake her up, muttering the password.  
  
"Thorn's Tears."  
  
She ushered the boys in, and looked at them solemnly through the hole.  
  
"Has Ms. Granger been well?"  
  
Harry and Ron looked at each other, confused. The Professor looked at Harry with a deep sorrow.  
  
"I understand. Now is not the time, I suppose, for discussing the Quidditch team. I will speak to each of you this coming Thursday. So I suppose this is goodnight, for now. Rest well, and behave, please, I cannot chase students like I used to." She smiled her peculiarly commanding smile, albeit wearily, and turned as the portrait swung shut.  
  
Ron looked at Harry, utter confusion in his eyes.  
  
"I know less than you do, Ron... At least you seem to get it.." His face was twisted in anger. Ginny stepped nearer to her brother, the two looking worriedly up at one another as their friend stomped away. Harry turned, and walked up the stairs, missing Sirius, his guidance, and his humor more than ever.  
  
In the darkness of his room, it seemed that everything became more complex. As he lay down, the sobs of Draco Malfoy echoed in his ears. Try as he might, Harry could not sort out how he felt.  
  
Troubled, his mind drifted off into sleep.  
  
~~~~~ 


	13. Days

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Thirteen: Days  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!  
  
A/N: Sorry for taking so long, thanks Dvomang!   
  
~~~~~  
  
Two days after his encounter in Dumbledore's office, Harry found himself at breakfast early.  
  
He stared through the envelope tiredly, carefully trying to read the lettering. Next to him, Ron nursed a few bites he had received while trying to wrest Hermione's letter from the owl. Unfortunately, reading was to no avail. Harry sat down huffily, putting the closed letter beside him, and continued to eat his eggs. Ron groaned, and began to eat with his good hand.  
  
The mystery of Hermione's secret had plagued Harry through his double-potions class, in which he had already lost ten points from his house, and Transfiguration, in which he had gained back the selfsame ten points. The brown haired girl bobbed through the classes, answering questions with ease and somehow maintaining the previous years courses on a sixth-years time constraint. It was no longer a wonder to either of the boys that she had turned down any hope of becoming a prefect once more, but the fact that she seemed to spend her time in the library with them studying from books that didn't even pertain to her subject matter truly confused both of them. More puzzling still, perhaps, were her absences from Harry's Occlumency lessons, which Ginny and Ron reported to as moral support faithfully.  
  
So it was that on the second morning of school, Ron and Harry had taken the bother of cornering, and eventually bribing, an owl carrying a letter for Hermione. Harry felt rather foolish, however something in her behavior prescribed the only logical course of action to a boy like Harry- investigation. Ron, who initially disagreed severely, was swayed instantly by Ginny's speculation on the matter the previous night.  
  
"Perhaps.... perhaps prof... She and Lupin... have taken a fancy to each other." The little redhead wondered, staring wide-eyed into the fire.  
  
Harry darted nervous glances at the main door, waiting for Hermione to enter. He smoothed the occasional crease on the letter, muttering to himself how peculiar it was that she was late enough to breakfast for them to catch the owl. Neville looked at them, still fascinated by their behavior.  
  
"Erm..."  
  
"Don't ask, Neville, please, don't ask, because I can't explain it myself." Ron muttered, dabbing at a welling of blood from his index finger with a napkin.  
  
Hermione swept in behind Harry a moment later, looking puzzled. She picked up the letter, eying them suspiciously, and grabbed a turnover before making a hasty leave. He stared after her, eyes bugging.  
  
"You catch what I'm talking about? She's acting mad, hovering around at all hours!" He looked at the other two boys, throwing a hand at the door.  
  
"M....Maybe she's taken a fancy to a boy, or something?" Neville speculated.  
  
"That," Ron groaned, "Is exactly what we're afraid of..."  
  
Further down the table, Lavender and Parvati Patil giggled about something. Ron looked down at them, curious. Harry, too, looked down, but stared past the girls to the Slytherine table. Draco stared at a wall hanging, pale eyes narrowed. Harry gaped a bit as he realized that Crebbe and Goyle were sitting far from him, and that there was space between the once famous leader of Slytherine and his house mates, although only the slightest distance, really. Harry couldn't help but stare.  
  
At that moment, Draco turned his pale eyes to meet Harry's, narrowed them, and turned back to his plate. It seemed rather odd that there was no threat attached to the motion, yet Harry found no desire to fight. Instead, he turned and began to work on his own pile of eggs.  
  
Something was awry, but Harry couldn't understand for the life of him what that something was. Glaring, he stuffed his mouth, not at all looking forward to his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. After all, Class with Slytherine made the dark arts nearer to home than ever.   
  
Through the windows of the Great Hall, he saw Hermione's head bounce past. Sighing, he watched his plate clear, and stood for class.  
  
~  
  
Moody seemed in high good mood for the second day of classes, and in particular for his own usually dismal personality. He wandered around the room, surveying the students with a somewhat frightening glee. The Slytherine students stared back imperiously, Draco watched him with the smallest traces of apprehension, and the Griffindors practically cheered. Their time had come, and they would not let their general good mood be dulled, even by the suspicious cage-like structure in the corner.   
  
Harry, for his own part, was both nervous and excited. Despite the fact that these lessons often required the risk of life and limb, he invariably had come out with gained knowledge in any encounter with Moodey. He stared eagerly at the front of the room, glancing uneasily the small letter that Hermione wrote and re-wrote next to him. His throat clenched a bit as he read small snips of the text, and his heart thumped occasionally.  
  
Annoyed, she flipped her book open so that the cover slapped the back of his knuckles, awakening him. He blinked, yelping slightly, only to catch a wide smile playing on his instructors lips as he walked bye.   
  
There was the sound of a throat clearing.   
  
"Welcome to your first year of Defense Against the Dark Arts." Moody said with his own semblance of a smile. Most of the students paused, murmuring, and looked at each other with intense puzzlement.   
  
"Everything you have learned up to this point may well serve you well in a world of peace. I, however, do not want any of you to walk into this world without the arms you need. It would be a betrayal to my oath as a teacher." He stared at all of them.  
  
For a few moments the crooked man wandered vaguely before them, before speaking once more. "There are a few things you will have to face in this class, and in the world you are going to be growing up in. Look at everyone around you."  
  
Most of the children looked around for a few moments at the already familiar faces, and then up at him expectantly. Draco stared at the board behind him, eyes still set in a stony, unpenetrable glare. Harry paused after his eyes grazed over Hermione and Ron and settled on Draco. The two of them locked eyes, then quickly looked away as Moody's voice snapped them back to focus.  
  
"I am not particularly adept at prediction, but statistics, I actually have a mind for." There was silence at this, and so he went on, " What I can tell you is this: Three of the people in this room will turn to the dark side before Voldemort is vanquished. Another two will be murdured. And one will use a forbidden curse on a fellow human."  
  
There were a few gasps, and looks of horror, and many glances at Draco, who remained aloof in his thoughts. Ron was one of the many who had pinned him as the wielder of the curse, and Hermione, too, gazed at him, although her look was entirely different than one of accusation. She had the same ponderous, half-expectant gaze that made Harry's skin crawl. He sat, listening to the drum of the lecture as Moody outlined the year's plan, and waited for some sign. Outside, dark black horses of bones floated in the sky. He watched apathetically, not really wanting to register the signs of death. He averted his eyes, and in doing so they fell on Hermione's paper as she scrawled her inevitable notes.  
  
It was then that he spotted the words 'Larian Wings". Harry looked for a moment at the words before something clicked, and he scribbled the two little words into the corner of his paper, after which he covered them firmly with his thumb, sneaking a furtive glance at the girl next to him. He moved his eyes over to the paper again, cautiously, and caught another set of words.  
  
'I think I might love him' her neat, spiraling writing read.   
  
His eyes widened, and he accidentally slammed his book shut on his hand a few moments later when class was ended with the assignment of a paper on the necessity and main areas of study in DADA. He winced in pain, and gawked at the words on the paper, panic setting in. He wrote a short note and slipped it to Ron as they exited, the three of them walking to lunch.   
  
His note read: 'I think Gin was right.'   
  
The redhead gave him a look of horror. At that precise moment, Lupin walked past, and Hermione slipped easily across the hall and away from them at the older man's side. Ron stared in disgust, and Harry, for all of his research, felt as if he could not have been more miserable.  
  
~~~ 


	14. White Horses

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Fourteen: White Horses  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get! A/N: Lyrics from a wonderful song, which I highly recommend, by Tori Amos called "Winter" ~~~~~ "Mione?" She turned around, hair flying for a moment as she jolted startled. Harry jogged up to her and flopped into a bench at her side. The wind was blowing particularly cold that afternoon, so Harry pulled his scarf tighter.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
She looked over at him, curious, albeit aloof as she had been for weeks. As it was now entering October the leaves had begun to fall. Gazing over the lake, she sighed. It was late afternoon, and Ron was covering some drills with the Quidditch team while Harry took a leave. He fidgeted, glad for the time his friend had given him but feeling a bit guilty for leaving his fellow players. He was glad for the new teammates that had been selected, but he was specifically distracted by the matter at hand.  
  
Sixth year nearly doubled their workload, and the shift from simplistic classes with only the DA to worry about to his full workload was rather shocking for Harry. Yet still he managed to compose himself.  
  
"I need to talk to you . . . " He looked up slowly.  
  
Hermione cast a glance at him calmly, and let out a sigh. "I can't tell you."  
  
"What if I told you I already knew?"  
  
"Harry??" She swung around and looked at him with panic in her eyes. He simply looked at her.  
  
"Oh god no, how did you... Harry, no...." She looked close to tears. He froze, shocked at her response.  
  
He touched her trembling shoulder as she stared at the water. She jumped.  
  
"'Mione, I was teasing...."  
  
"Well, don't..." She gasped a bit.  
  
"You're... Shaking..."  
  
"What the devil d'you think I'd do when I thought we were good as dead?!" She snapped. Her eyes went wide, then she lowered her head. "Oh... oh no..."  
  
He stared at her for a moment. "Dead? What the hell are you hiding, Hermione?!"  
  
She shook her head slowly, eyes sad. He stood suddenly.  
  
"Dammit, if your in danger then it isn't worth it, okay?!" Her head snapped to fix on his eyes.  
  
"Harry, but it is too worth it! I don't have a thought to live for right now but keeping you and Ron safe! Who else do I have to fight for?"  
  
"Yourself?" He growled. He took a deep breath, regaining his composure. "It's okay for me... I'm supposed to do this, It's my future to get into this mess, but Herm.... You've got all of this wit and a lot of power... you don't have to just throw it all away on someone who's going to die anyway..." He ended lamely.  
  
She hit him in the shoulder, and rather hard too. She stared at him furiously. "You aren't going to die, Harry!"  
  
He groaned, nodding. "Whatever you think..." He rubbed irritably at his shoulder, and disliking her continued glare, he let out a long breath. "Okay, OKAY.... I won't die... I'll live to get really old and crusty and have piles of children..." He rolled his eyes.  
  
"And don't forget being and Auror!"  
  
He looked over at her, and surprisingly enough there was a grin starting. It was one of the few times he'd seen her really smile since her parent's death. He relaxed. "Oh, yeah, can't forget that... Still Voldemort's knock offs to be rid of..."  
  
They sat in silence for a moment or two, picturing a mad man in a mask with red eyes trying to destroy the world. Somehow, though, it always became the feared wizard. They shivered a bit, the water looking cloudy in the cold. Quite suddenly, a few white flecks started down form the steely sky. Hermione rubbed her hands together, smiling weakly at the starting snow.  
  
"But you have to promise that you're going to live too..."  
  
"Right..." Hermione murmured. She fell silent again, watching as the snow fell harder in a soft hush around them, turning the grass white.  
  
Harry sighed, looking up.  
  
"Thestrals are out again..." He said, more to himself than anyone else.  
  
"I know."  
  
He turned, and for a moment was going to ask how she saw them, but he remembered again. He sighed deeply as she shivered a bit beside him.  
  
"But why are they white..?" Hermione mused. Harry turned to her, looking confused. The wind blew the hair into her face softly, framing her gentle features in a mask of wonder.  
  
"They're black, Hermione.... Maybe you should get your eyes checked...."  
  
She glared at him. "I'm serious, they're white.... I mean, otherwise they're exactly how you described them last year, but when I see them, they're always white...."  
  
He gave her a very strange expression. She laughed quietly at this.  
  
"You know Harry, last year I was giving you the same look when you were talking about them..." Pulling her cloak tighter, she settled even deeper into the bench, shivering still.  
  
He thought on this, still gazing at her quietly. After a few moments of silence, he threw his scarf around her neck casually, standing.  
  
"It isn't much fun..." He sighed, "Is it?"  
  
"Is what?" She asked, looking up and smiling softly at the gift of the scarf. His stomach thumped a little at her expression.  
  
"Being able to see them..." He looked up as one dived nearby them into the woods.  
  
She seemed thoughtful for a moment.  
  
"I like it." He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Because it reminds me of my father, because he loved white horses... it reminds me of my parents, and I can't forget them...." She pulled the scarf tighter.  
  
Raising his hand, Harry adjusted a few bits of the fabric around her neck, his finger brushing her cheek a little. The two faltered slightly, but she smiled still a bit more. Harry fell silent, and turned, walking away.  
  
Hermione stood alone as the wind picked up and watched his receding back, rubbing her hands together before slipping on a pair of well-worn, black gloves.  
  
~~~~~ "Winter" Snow can wait  
  
I forgot my mittens  
  
Wipe my nose  
  
Get my new boots on  
  
I get a little warm in my heart  
  
When I think of winter  
  
I put my hand in my father's glove  
  
I run off where the drifts get deeper  
  
Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown  
  
I hear a voice  
  
"You must learn to stand up for yourself  
  
Cause I can't always be around"  
  
He says  
  
When you gonna make up your mind  
  
When you gonna love you as much as I do  
  
When you gonna make up your mind  
  
Cause things are gonna change so fast  
  
All the white horses are still in bed  
  
I tell you that I'll always want you near  
  
You say that things change my dear  
  
Boys get discovered as winter melts  
  
Flowers competing for the sun  
  
Years go by and I'm here still waiting  
  
Withering where some snowman was  
  
Mirror mirror where's the crystal palace  
  
But I only can see myself  
  
Skating around the truth who I am  
  
But I know dad the ice is getting thin  
  
When you gonna make up your mind  
  
When you gonna love you as much as I do  
  
When you gonna make up your mind  
  
Cause things are gonna change so fast  
  
All the white horses are still in bed  
  
I tell you that I'll always want you near  
  
You say that things change my dear  
  
Hair is gray and the fires are burning  
  
So many dreams on the shelf  
  
You say I wanted you to be proud of me  
  
I always wanted that myself  
  
When you gonna make up your mind  
  
When you gonna love you as much as I do  
  
When you gonna make up your mind  
  
Cause things are gonna change so fast  
  
All the white horses have gone ahead  
  
I tell you that I'll always want you near  
  
You say that things change my dear  
  
Never change  
  
All the white horses 


	15. Dating Game

One Tin Soldier  
  
Chapter Fifteen: Dating Game  
  
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!  
  
A/N: Origional poem again, yea! Hope you all enjoy.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Soft wind blowing now,  
  
Only lightly upon it-  
  
I smell the snow, coming,  
  
Winter on the horizon,  
  
Yet I wait, still, on the landing...   
  
I want this, maybe nothing.   
  
Maybe I just want it to be over?  
  
Fighting until forever,  
  
Yet all we find is the same answer in the end:  
  
I love you,  
  
And goodbye.  
  
~~~~~  
  
She sighed as she read the last line of her poem. Hermione closed the book, shutting her eyes tiredly in the late-evening firelight. She felt heavy and weary, beaten and rather bruised. Groaning slightly, she rubbed her aching muscles into some semblance of relaxation and breathed deeply.  
  
"That was beautiful, you know." Remus Lupin leaned forward from his chair, appraising her as he had when she had once been a star pupil. Still there was something etched on his face, the scars of worry that refused to fade from his young, yet terribly aged face.  
  
She opened her eyes slightly at his voice, but hardly bothered to move. She always looked terrible after his training.  
  
"I suppose.."  
  
He rose and eyebrow. "But why?"   
  
She let out her breath slowly, staring silently at the ceiling of his office. "Oh, I don't know... Why what?" She gazed at him inquiringly.  
  
He looked away a bit, eyes rather sad, with the same drained look they had had since the previous spring. "Why do you hurt like this? Why do you believe that it will always end that way?"  
  
"Have I seen it end any other?" She echoed emptily.  
  
Lupin stared at her, a flicker of pain in his eyes. "You rally can't be so sure that it is going to end so tragically..." He paused, "Don't do that to yourself, it will only hurt you along the way." He fell silent for a moment, ruminating, and then lifted his eyes again. "You know, I still believe in both of you."  
  
"Remus..."  
  
"I do, Hermione. I really do think that if someone so young has to do it, then we really do have the best odds right now!" His lips moved into a pale ghost of a smile.   
  
He began to pour two cups of tea and break off small bits of chocolate. He hummed softly after a short time, carefully stirring the drinks and setting them on saucers. Letting out a soft sigh, he turned to find Hermione curled in the chair, asleep, Crookshanks (A common guest to the room) slipping onto her lap soundlessly.  
  
His hand shook softly as he looked at the girl, grown ugly, tired, and thin from what she had taken up. He set the saucers down slowly, and produced a blanket, tucking it lightly over her. Staring down at her sadly, he settled into his own chair and shut his eyes.  
  
Moments later there was a light hop on his lap. Crookshanks looked up at him, purring softly, and nuzzled his hand with his flat, soft face. Lupin allowed a ghost of a smile.  
  
"I know... I'm just worried..."  
  
Crookshanks looked at him seriously and flipped his tail once. Remus sighed.  
  
"Alright then, good night."  
  
He flicked the light off, and in the darkness listened to his student's breaths.  
  
"I love you and goodbye..." she murmured softly.  
  
He stared into the darkness.   
  
"I just hope he hears those words one day..."  
  
Crookshanks licked his ear casually and they dozed off.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Harry stared at Hermione as she slipped into the breakfast hall, late, coming yet again from the direction of Lupin's office. His stomach turned slightly at the thought of her spending yet another night with him. Slowly, he stood to greet her, but she slipped past him wordlessly.   
  
Sliding into her chair, Hemione began eating in silence. Ron and Harry looked momentarily at one another.  
  
"So..." Ron offered.  
  
"Ah.." Hermione looked up at Harry curiously.  
  
"How long have you and Lupin been together?"   
  
Ron tried to be as casual as possible.  
  
Hermione was standing over him squealing loudly a moment later. He cowered under her glare, eyes wide.   
  
"YOU THINK I'M WHAT???"  
  
"bloody..." Ron whimpered.  
  
Harry stood up. "Calm down- So we figured out your secret, you don't have to flip out!!"   
  
She looked at him silently.   
  
"Wait..."  
  
Harry looked at her oddly as she spoke.  
  
"You.." She paused, "You think... my secret is that I'm with LUPIN?" Her cheek twitched a little.  
  
"Well yeah, I mean you never come back to the dorms anymore..."  
  
She suddenly and inexplicably began to laugh. Harry was dumbfounded, but where he was confused, Ron seemed rather terrified.  
  
Hermione gasped, holding onto the sides of the table to hold herself up. "Oh... oh dear... oh Harry, Ron... d'you really think I'm snogging our old Dark Art's professor?" She composed herself for a moment, still looking amusedly curious.  
  
"Well..." Chirruped Ron, "Yeah...."  
  
She walked out of the room laughing, grabbing a muffin on the way.  
  
Draco chose this moment to wander past.   
  
"Well, it's official." He drawled, looking at the other two with an unreadable expression. "You've driven Granger flat-out batty." He pondered for a moment. "Or maybe it's just that she's trying t-"  
  
"It'd do you good to shut up occasionally, Malfoy." Moodey grunted as he lumbered past, apparently out of nowhere. "Come on Harry, let's let the ferret be for awhile."  
  
Malfoy, shockingly enough, only glared silently at the professor for a few moments before stalking away.  
  
"Not as big without Crebbe and Goyle next to him, d'you think?" Ron muttered as they left the room. Harry nodded vaguely, staring at the receding back of Hermione as she walked down the hall in the opposite direction.   
  
"I'm confused." Harry offered off-handedly.  
  
"If you are fond of the women-folk then get used to it." Moodey grunted, "Because they don't get any simpler."  
  
"Are they all that insane?" Ron asked cautiously.  
  
Moodey looked ponderous. "Oh... Yes, yes I'd say thereabouts."  
  
"oh...." The redhead looked up. "And doesn't that scare you?"  
  
"Why the devil d'you think I'm not married?"  
  
He roared with laughter, and cautiously the two boys began to laugh with him.  
  
"So Herm isn't dating Lupin, d'you think?" Ron asked through a chuckle.  
  
His friend thought on this. "I don't think she'd have laughed that much if she was..." He bumped into Moodey's back.  
  
"Sorry prof-"  
  
"You asked her if she was dating... Lupin?" He looked even more amused then before.  
  
"YES! Alright? It was a really stupid idea, I know, but it was bugging me."  
  
Moodey stared, his one eye rolling wildly. "Blimey, y'two are daft aren't you?"  
  
After careful consideration of what they had just done, Harry and Ron found themselves sadly nodding a definitive 'yes'.  
  
Harry settled into his Occlumency lesson, feeling as though he deserved every knock on the head he received. 


End file.
